


The Mess We've Made of it All

by writeme



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Did I mention hurt?, F/M, Feelings for multiple people at once, Friends With Benefits Gone Bad, Heartbreak, Kevin is the biggest Barchie stan of all, Mutual Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Trauma, Unexpected News, hook ups, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeme/pseuds/writeme
Summary: Okay, this one's gonna hurt. Barchie canon divergent fic set after 5x08, centering around Betty's real feelings regarding the lit window in her darkness.Or, Betty doesn't want to drag Archie down with her, but he's willingly along for the ride, even when she's trying desperately to get him to jump off. Yet, things are complicated and at times a little toxic, but sometimes the harder you push someone away, the closer they pull you back.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge (mentioned), Betty Cooper & Kevin Keller
Comments: 81
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this one starts with a ridiculous amount of exposition (my biggest writing flaw) but I couldn't bear to remove any of it, but I swear there is dialogue eventually. This fic is basically a stream of consciousness after watching 5x08. Hope you like to hurt, because this one hurts so good, I even cried writing a few sections.
> 
> Please read, kudos, and review if you are so inclined and thank you so much for reading! Apologies for any mistakes, I do my best to edit, but some inevitably slip by.

**Darkness** ;

_ to be partially or completely absent or devoid of light.  _

In countless novels and movies, it’s used as a method of creating looming suspense, activating or expanding our deepest phobias, and explaining away the ugliness in the world. For ages, it’s been regarded as something to fear, or at least be wary of. 

At some point, we all hear some iteration of the same advice; don’t walk in the dark, especially by yourself, and even more importantly if you’re a woman. If a child is scared to sleep in their room because it’s too dark, they’re customarily offered a nightlight. Small, yet effective, these devices serve as an antidote to the fear of so many. A reminder, that even when you’re surrounded by the dark, there’s still light in the world too.

Light balances dark. That’s a widely known fact, right? If you’re searching in the dark you turn on a lamp, flick up a light switch, or maybe even grab a flashlight. When you’re surrounded by darkness, you search out an illuminating source to make it somehow more bearable, in some cases survivable. The light at the end of the tunnel has widely been used as a metaphor to represent the bit of hope we keep on a long, arduous journey through adversity or over the obstacles thrown at us so cruelly and harshly by life. 

We all seek out light to help us navigate our way through the dark.

Unless you're Betty Cooper, who apparently thinks that when her darkness threatens to consume her, she should snuff out the only sliver of light in her otherwise gray existence. 

She’s barely been hanging on since her abduction by the TBK. She hesitates to call it that, when she herself walked into the lair of an active and known serial killer, but it’s the term her therapist uses so it’s easy enough to adapt for her own use. 

The two weeks she’d spent trapped in that well were indescribably horrible. Literally, she’s tried to explain it to Dr. Starling and even to Glen, but there are no words to accurately portray what really happened to her in there. Or, what happened to her mind, already fragile and expertly held together by tape and glue as it were. 

She could explain the things they could see, like her battered, bloodied, bruised, and scarred hands from the desperate attempts she’d made at climbing out of there in the beginning, before she’d lost her hope and began to feel resigned that the well was where she’d meet her end. The gauntness in her face, the dehydration, the malnourishment; none of those seemed to be hard for her to discuss as though they were facts of another case, one that hadn’t happened to her.

It was the mental torture, not just that the TBK had put her through, but that’d she’d put herself through when he’d left her down there for countless hours alone, that she found to be unspeakable. She’d lose track of the time as she grasped at the last threads of her mental stability, losing the battle of keeping her sanity more often than not. She’d scream her throat raw, to the point of swelling sometimes, just hoping someone might hear her. No one ever did.

Being with Archie wasn’t just an escape, no matter how many times she’d told herself that excuse, trying to make it true. Being with Archie was more like a lifeline. Their moments together were the only ones in her existence that seemed to make sense right now. Being with him was easy in that it felt natural and unforced. Being together under the guise of having fun and being friends with benefits had allowed her to give into the things she’d wanted for so long, without having to confront the emotional baggage that might come with it otherwise. 

Hooking up with Archie was a split second decision the first time, a culmination of years of sexual tension and what ifs. But the times after that had been purposeful and decided. For fuck’s sake, she’d lit literally every candle she’d found in the Cooper house for their fireman themed tryst. The entire thing had felt borderline romantic, but she’d been content to pretend it was just for fun, because it was that too, after all.

It was that same giddiness that had led to her confession to Kevin. She’d described Archie as a lit window in the dark and that’s exactly what he was. But upon telling Kevin, she was faced with a harsh realization that regardless of not wanting to get in deeply with her supposed best friend with benefits, she was starting to do exactly that. Archie wasn’t just who she wanted to fuck because he made her feel good or like she could avoid her problems. He was who she felt safest and most comfortable with, like she could actually let her guard down and not try and carry the weight of the world on her shoulders when she was with him.

The nightmare about Polly and the TBK had been one of the most graphic of all, it leaves her with a feeling of terror so deep, it roots in her stomach like nausea. 

But then, there he is. This time, a literal lit window in the dark. She doesn’t stop to think that this isn’t what they agreed on, that she’s not just calling him for a quick fuck or a moment of fun. She’s calling him, because she needs him to feel sane, to feel safe, to feel  _ anything _ other than this horrible anxiety and guilt that’s trying to consume her now. 

So, she texts him. She texts him and he’s there within five minutes. And it’s clear when he walks in, stripping off his jacket and taking off his shoes that he’s here for the escape. But something changes when he looks at her. She’d normally try and force out a coy smile and then kiss him quickly, before he can notice that she’s different, that something’s  _ wrong _ . 

She’s too tired to pretend this time; too wrecked to act like she doesn’t need him here because she’s scared and tired of fighting this by herself. His face is so full of concern when he sits on her bed. He sits so close to her, his hands falling to her thighs to provide instant comfort as he asks what’s wrong with a sincerity that makes her want to cry all over again.

She knows she can tell him. She can tell him everything right now and he’ll hold her and he’ll tell her he’ll keep her safe and she’ll believe him. He’ll really mean it too, every word he says.

So, she can’t speak a word of it to him. She can’t let him in, because once she brings him into all of her crazy shit, he’s going to feel like he has to protect her. Then, he'll want to take care of everything and he already has enough going on. Archie is, once again, the light this town needs to pull itself out of all of the gloom, she can’t be the thing that darkens it. Yes, she needs his light too, but is she selfish enough to hog it all for herself instead of letting him use it to save this place he clearly loves so much? To help so many other people? She refuses to detract from that, in any way.

So she doesn’t talk about it. She takes comfort from him in another way. They fuck for hours because she doesn’t want to fall back asleep and risk slipping right back into that awful dream land. She doesn’t want him to leave and she doesn’t know if he’ll be in the mood to cuddle tonight, so she acts insatiable instead. And in some ways, she is. Sex with Archie makes her feel good. He makes her cum hard and more than once, nearly every time. But the thing she’s chasing now isn’t her next orgasmic release, it’s that feeling of safety he gives her that she craves so unquenchably.

He does make her forget, just like she asked him to. He makes her forget everything but his name at some points, because it’s the only thing she manages to moan or mutter other than, “don’t stop” or “harder.” She wants it to hurt, because then she can feel something familiar instead of everything she feels with him now that she isn’t supposed to. 

Archie’s incapable though, he’s too good to her, too attentive. He fucks her hard, but it doesn’t hurt her. It feels good, amazing even. It feels like he wants her, really wants  _ her _ , not just the sex. But she knows that he’s just that good of a lover and everything else is her mind playing tricks on her. It makes her feel worse. She knows that has to be the last time. So she gets on top and fucks him again, until the sun is peeking over the clouds and they’ve more than exhausted each other. When he leaves, he kisses her goodbye, blissfully unaware of all the thoughts already brewing in her mind.

The key party is awkward, to say the least. She’d planned to skip it, but then Kevin had begged for her moral support and since she’s so short on friends these days, she can’t exactly risk turning him down. She drowns her feelings in the overpriced bottle of white wine she and Kev swipe from Cheryl’s bar to claim as their own, refilling her glass as soon as it’s empty so she has something to do with her hands.

Veronica picks Archie’s keys on purpose, at least that’s how it seems to Betty. The way it makes her feel lets her know she’s in over her head with her best friend. The way he’s looking at Veronica isn’t the way he looks at her, the way he wants her isn’t the same. 

It reminds her of Cheryl’s party sophomore year in the same God awful way. The exact feelings of inferiority, of not being good enough for him, bubble up like she’s fifteen all over again. So, she drinks some more wine, and tries to pretend this night isn’t making her spiral further off the deep end.

She ends up with his keys, which should thrill her. She wants him, of course she does, but he isn’t hers and she knows it. She tries to keep her lip from quivering as they drive home, thankful she’s in her mother’s car and he’s ahead of her in his, as the tears stream down her face when she loses the battle not to cry over him.

Maybe they can have one last time, that’s what she thinks as he follows her upstairs to her bedroom. Her heels are discarded on the floor, but they’re the only article of clothing either of them have removed despite having free reign to do whatever they want with and to one another. But, what she wants is for him to love her back, and she’s pretty sure that isn’t on the table given Cheryl’s ground rules. Besides, Archie’s clearly distracted and she isn’t going to lie to herself and pretend she doesn’t know exactly where he’d rather be right now. 

He just has to add insult to injury though and confirm the thoughts she has she’s been able to pretend are just suspicions. He still has feelings for Veronica, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s a pretty simple, direct statement, but it says a lot more than that. Well, maybe it’s what he doesn’t say that really speaks volumes.

He doesn’t say, ‘I have feelings for Veronica and for you’. He doesn’t say, ‘I’m confused and need time to think.’ Maybe she doesn’t give him time to say those things, but she can tell he wasn’t going to anyway. 

If she ends this now, if she does it on her “own terms” it will feel better than watching him pine after Veronica. Then, she won’t wonder if he’s thinking of Veronica when he’s fucking her, wishing he were with the brunette bombshell instead. Then, she won’t accidentally tell him that he’s everything to her and she’s scared of what she’ll do to herself without him around to keep her from sinking fully into the darkness.

Archie’s always the hero for everyone else, so she’ll be the vigilante today. She’ll save him from the thing he needs saving from the most. She’ll save him from  _ her _ , from her darkness, from all the terrible layers of grime he can’t even tell she’s covered in with the rose colored glasses he's always viewed her through.

He’s not as willing to accept her out as she expects him to be. When he says he won’t let her go through all of this alone, she wants to give in, just for a moment. She wants to lean in and kiss him because she knows he’s too nice to deny her, that he’ll kiss her back and he’ll fuck her and make her feel like she isn’t alone. But then, he’ll leave, like he always does and she’ll go back to remembering how she’s not enough for him, not really.

So she lays down the friend card. And she has to muster every ounce of strength she has within herself to not cry harder when he brings his hand to her face to wipe away her tears. It’s so soft, the way he touches her cheek. It’s like he really loves her, like he could really be  _ in love _ with her, the way she wants him to be. It’s all an illusion, one that serves only to break her heart all over again.

The shitty thing is, she knows it’s not even true. He won’t be there for her as a friend. Every time they've connected lately, it’s been to hook up. Not that she’d minded previously, of course. But now that she’d closed the door on that, now that he’d confirmed that he wanted Veronica again out loud, she knew things were going to change. They’d go back to the way things always were when he and Veronica were involved. 

Now, he and Betty would go back to keeping each other at arm's length. They’d check in with small talk like the strangers they really were. Meanwhile, Betty would fall further into her darkness once again, and thanks to her own stupid ideas, she wouldn’t have any light to guide herself out with anymore.

Maybe, in some sick, twisted, sadistic way, she liked it like that. Betty Cooper was great at misery. She may have stopped boring crescent shaped wounds into her palms with her fingernails, but that’s just because she’d found other ways to hurt herself that were more effective. No one cold torture her worse than she could do it to herself.

The Blackhood, her literal father, had tortured her. He’d tried to make her kill him, for fuck’s sake. Yet, when Penelope Blossom shot him in the head right in front of her, she’d still felt a heart shattering ache watching him die. She hated him, for everything he’d done, but it didn’t erase that for 15 years before everything had gone to shit, Hal had been the parent she loved the most and was closest to. It was a loss she’d never truly let herself mourn because Hal Cooper was a bad person. He was a murderer. He’d shot Fred Andrews. She was probably the only person left in the world who felt any sadness over his death and that sadness only made her feel guilty and more isolated. Somehow, even after his death, Hal still managed to plague and afflict her thoughts.

The TBK had tortured her too, of course. But she’d be lying if she said there weren’t moments in the well where she invited the idea of her impending death, because at least then there might be some reprieve from all the suffering. Not just the suffering in the well either,  _ all _ of it; The Black Hood, the Farm, the Stonewall preppies. It’s a depraved, secret thought she’ll never share with anyone, least of all Dr. Starling who she’s working so hard to prove her sanity to.

It doesn’t surprise her when she catches them together in the teacher’s lounge that Monday at school. Archie’s hand is on the small of Veronica’s back as she refills her coffee and he’s smiling at her like she’s hung the moon. It’s quick and then his hand is back in his pocket, but Betty doesn’t need more evidence then that to know what’s happened between them. She tries to act unaffected when Kevin gapes at her in shock, thankful that he drags her out of there, because she’s not sure she could’ve gotten her feet to move otherwise. 

“Okay, what the fuck is that?” He hisses, pulling her towards his classroom, which is empty thanks to this being his lunch period.

She shrugs, as if it isn’t killing her. “Inevitable, some might say.”

“No,” Kevin doesn’t seem willing to accept this and he shakes his head firmly with his staunch disapproval. “I’ve been waiting like a decade for you and Archie to get together and now he’s just…” He trails off in apparent disgust. “I have a stark stance against slut shaming, but, that man,” He shakes his head again, glaring before mouthing the word ‘whore’ at her.

Betty offers him a weak smile, “Archie and I weren’t together,” She reminds him, “We were friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, right, You  _ said _ that, but your doey, lovesick, help-me-Kevin-I’m-in-over-my-head eyes said otherwise.” He remarks pointedly, moving to sit in his rolling chair as Betty perches herself on his desk.

“Which is why I ended things, Kev.” Her tone is slightly rueful, but she’s doing her best to seem confident in the decision.

“What? Why? No! Those abs, Betty, come on! We need this!” Kevin’s hysteria over her announcement is over exaggerated, but it helps her to offer a more genuine smile as she tries to convince them both she doesn’t regret her decision.

“Kev, he still has feelings for Veronica.” She shrugs. “I don’t know if I can compete with that and frankly, I don’t want to. Look, I have no right to be hurt, Archie was clear with me from the beginning about what us hooking up meant. I was a willing participant every single time.” She sighs. “It’s better I end it now, while our friendship is still decently salvageable.”

“How many times are we talking here?” He asks with a coy smile. When Betty gives him a pointed look, like she’s not going to disclose that number because it’s probably higher than he thinks, he smirks approvingly. “Well, he could have waited at least a second before hopping into bed with Veronica.” Kevin scowls, shaking his head. “She isn’t even officially divorced yet.” He adds. “Let’s let the ink dry on the papers here people.”

She can’t let herself dwell on those things, they’ll creep into her mind like excuses that will never actually mean anything. “Those two have had a magnetic attraction since they met, trust me, I was a direct witness. It was just as soul crushing that time, too.” She tries to smile again, but it’s no use, the corners of her mouth won’t seem to tug up, as though they’re refusing to help her run this gambit.

“That may be true,” Kevin concedes, “But you and Archie,” He shakes his head. “Betty, I’m telling you, the story isn’t over for you two, it can’t be.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the classroom door and Archie pop’s his red, disheveled-haired head into the classroom. “Hey, Britta told me she saw you duck in here. You have a moment to chat?” 

Well, Britta has just dropped a notch in the favorite student rankings she isn’t supposed to be mentally keeping. Coincidentally, that still finds her at the top spot because the next closest student is ranked a distant tenth. The pickings are decidingly slim amongst the student population at their newly minted private school. 

Kevin’s eyes widen with excitement, as if his point has just been proven. She gives him a warning look and then turns her attention to Archie, “Actually Kevin and I were just,”

“Just finishing talking. Thanks again Betty, you always give the best advice.” Kevin doesn’t want to be her alibi it seems, as he’s interrupted her lie before she’s done crafting it. He leans forward to hug her and whispers, “Just be honest!” Then, he starts towards the door. “Better go nuke my lasagna before Jughead plows through the fridge and eats things that are clearly labeled in tupperware containers with people’s names.” He rolls his eyes at the described antics, as though it’s a daily struggle for him.

Her only buffer exits the classroom and she feels a sense of dread fall over her at being left alone with Archie for the first time since breaking things off with him. “I guess I have a moment after all,” She says awkwardly, crossing her arms over her chest as she rises from the desk. “What’s up?” She asks, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“I just wanted to check in and make sure everything’s okay,” He starts, taking a step towards her. “Just see how you’re doing.”

48 hours of radio silence and now he wants to check in? She wants to scoff at him but she knows that’s rude. It’s not like he’s being a dick to her. It’s just that she knows, after seeing them together in the teacher’s lounge, exactly why he hasn’t reached out in two days and it makes her inexplicably angry at him nevertheless. “Well, I’m great.” She lies, forcing out a smile. “So, no need to worry about me.”

He frowns at her, taking another step closer. “I’ll always worry about you Betty, we’re friends, remember?”

She can’t look at him, he’ll see right through her next fake smile for sure. “Right, friends. Best friends.” She corrects, her eyes focusing on her feet. She’s not sure she’s done anything to give conviction to that statement, but she can’t be bothered to care.

He places a comforting hand on her shoulder and it’s actually insufferable; the way her skin burns at the contact, the way she wants him immediately. “Betts,” His voice is too quiet, too breathless as he trails his fingers down her arm to grip her elbow, pulling her closer.

“So, you and Veronica?” She course corrects, clearing her throat and raising her eyebrow slightly with implication. “Glad that’s all working out.” She adds, shrugging off his touch and creating more distance between them again. 

The look on his face is pained, almost like he misses her too. “We’re figuring things out.” He replies vaguely, but he doesn’t meet her eyes and it’s even more clear what that means. 

“That’s so great, for both of you.” She really sells the smile this time, because she manages to make her dimples show. “You two are so-”

“I know it was fast.” He actually seems almost disgusted with himself, so much he can’t even wait for her to finish before he feels compelled to confess that detail to her. “That doesn’t mean that what happened between us didn’t mean anything to me, I just really wanted you to know that.”

Oh, so that’s what this is about? He needs absolution. Okay, she’ll grant him his amnesty and then he’ll leave her alone again, for a little while at least. This is just all a piece of their puzzle, the one they never seem to put together quite right. “We had fun, for sure.” She swallows, willing her tone to stay even as she reminds him, “You don’t owe me anything more than that, Arch.”

“Okay, well, I still don’t want you to be upset.” He says quietly, his throat bobbing slightly as he works to keep his own emotions in check. 

“I told you, I’m fine. With everything.” She knows she’s getting ready to lose her resolve so she postures towards the door. “Look, I have some materials to get prepped for my next class period. But, everything is good. I’m  _ fine _ . You don’t need to worry about anything, okay? I’ll talk to you later.” She rushes the words out, trying to get them all articulated before emotion takes over her words. Her hand is on the knob and she’s already turning it when she can feel him behind her, right behind her. Damn his giant strides, for sabotaging her escape so.

“You’re not fine.” His breath tickles her neck as her hand stills against the metal handle. “Please, just talk to me.” The pain in his tone is almost enough to break her, make her give in to the comfort she knows he’ll offer her now. 

Her eyes well with tears and she can barely squeak out the words, “I don’t want to,” before she finally opens the door and leaves him there, slightly dumbfounded.

She manages to avoid him more successfully as the week progresses. She doesn’t necessarily mean for it to happen, but she and her mom get wrapped up with new leads and even more dead ends in Polly’s case. It’s the perfect excuse to avoid him outside of school and she learns to stop leaving her shop classroom and garage when she is there, which takes care of running into him around school. Archie’s busy too, of course. Between the fire department, RROTC, coaching the football team, renovating the Pembroke, and fucking Veronica; his plate is full as well. Things are playing out exactly the way she imagined they would. Their friendship is nonexistent again. It doesn’t hurt any less when she lets herself dwell on the disappointment, so she shoves it down and pretends it isn't killing her inside.

Without her favorite coping mechanism available to her, she has to find another. She fears her addictive personality enough to skip out on using alcohol or pills to numb the pain and anxiety. She knows that random sex isn’t going to satisfy her need, not after the way Archie’s ruined her. So she runs. Which is a surprisingly healthy choice for her, for the most part.

The nightmares are worse now that there’s no moments of light with Archie. And even when she wakes up and sees his lamp on again through the window, she knows better than to reach out. She knows he can’t give her what she wants anymore and that isn’t just referring to the sex. 

Instead, she decides that 4:40 AM is an appropriate time for a run and she laces up her shoes and dresses accordingly, dashing out the front door and into the cool morning air. It’s not as instantly gratifying as fucking Archie would be, but it still gives her a much needed release. Normally she’d run around the neighborhood, but given the safety concerns of the newly unincorporated Riverdale, she decides to head to the school instead. She can run the track there and zone out, listening to music for a few miles, it’ll be good for her.

She jogs at a moderate pace to the school, pulling back the metal thatched fence and squeezing herself underneath, to gain access to the athletic complex. The track is obviously empty, and also darker than she’s expecting, but her eyes are adjusted enough to see and she figures no one will bother her here. She takes a moment to stretch her legs, warming up her muscles a little more before scrolling through her phone to find the running playlist she listened to every morning back at Quantico. With one earbud in, she begins to run, slowly at first, but gradually increasing her pace.

The adrenaline courses through her as feet slam against the rubbered track floor. The combination of stress relief and angsty Taylor Swift music seem to be the perfect storm because she can feel herself crying as she quickens her pace, straining her lungs even more. She doesn’t stop running through, in a way, it seems to help. It’s the most relief she’s felt in awhile. Well, since she ended things with Archie at least. She takes a moment to close her eyes, it’s a long, straight stretch ahead of her and her feet seem to move without needing her command at this point. She feels almost at peace.

That is, until she feels someone grasp the back of her arm. The hand is gone as soon as she feels it but it’s enough to elicit a blood-curdling scream from her as she whips around, shoving hard at the would be threat. She’s not sure what or who she expects to find, but of course it’s him. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just me.” Archie’s hands fly up in defense as he staggers back from her push. “I tried calling your name to get your attention.” He adds softly.

“Jesus, Arch!” She reaches into her pocket to stop the music, breathing hard and fast after being taken by such surprise. “You scared the shit out of me.” She adds, shaking her head. “What are you even doing here? I thought I was alone!”

“I run most mornings, early. Old military habit,” He supplies. “What about you?”

“Just needed to clear my head. I was on my last lap though,” She lies, “I’ll finish up and catch you later.” 

“Betty, wait!” He calls out before she can jog away. “Please.” He sounds so sad again. “Just talk to me, we’re supposed to be friends. I know something is going on with you, more than just with your sister. I just want to be here for you, like we talked about.”

His voice is gentle, almost convincing. She doesn’t want this from him, not right now and maybe not ever anymore; this sympathy. She tries the only thing she thinks might crush it, “We haven’t been friends since we were 16, Arch, not really.”

He fixes her with a hard stare.“Well, that’s news to me.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to,” She shrugs, not sure how she was intending to finish that. 

“Ignore each other?” He provides the ending to her sentence. “Well, maybe you’re content with that, but I’m sure as hell not. Kevin told me you’ve turned down all of his offers to hang out after work. Your mom’s worried about you too, she says you’re not sleeping lately.”

She’s not so sure why she finds hearing all of that so offensive, but she does. “Oh, so you’re checking up on me now?” She glares at him, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Well you won’t fucking talk to me so I have to see how you’re doing somehow.” He swallows hard again. “I’m worried about you.” He hesitates, before tacking on, “I miss you.”

“I’ve turned down Kevin because my sister is missing, Archie. Lots of girls are missing or dead and I’ve been staying up late researching and hypothesizing and trying to help them and I haven’t helped anyone. Polly called me and we,” She shakes her head, eyes watery. “She’s probably dead now, Archie. So forgive me if I don’t want to go to the White Wyrm with Kevin to spy on Fangs or grab a plate of fries with him at Pops, but I have a lot going on.”

His face is wrought with emotion and he steps closer to her again, his eyes so full of sadness, her own lip starts to quiver. “I know you do,” He soothes, “But you told me you’d let me help you, not try and do it all on your own.”

“Well, surprise, surprise, I lied.” She laughs sarcastically, “I said a lot of things I didn't mean that night Arch, that’s the one you choose to focus on?” She feels bad though, at the crestfallen look that plays on his face. “Look, I’m sorry. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid when I said we were better off sticking to our friendship. Stress makes me an ugly person, you don’t deserve any of this. That’s part of why I’ve been avoiding you.” She confesses the last part involuntarily, looking away. “I don’t want the light to go out, Arch.” She adds vaguely, her words laced with remorse. “I’m going to leave now, please don’t come after me.”

“Betty,” His voice cracks on her name, but he stays put at her request. “Please,”

It’s enough to stop her in her descent, but she doesn’t turn around. “Just let me go, Arch.” She breathes, her eyes and nose red with emotion.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” He confesses, words echoing ones he said to her a lifetime ago now. “I’m worried about you, I just want to help.” She’s about to reply, refuting his concern, when he adds. “It’s hurting me, seeing you like this, not being able to help you.”

Her weakness; he’s found it. She’s hurting him? She  _ has _ to fix it. She thinks better of it, but turns to look at him anyway. A few stray tears slide down her cheeks before she can stop them, but she swipes away the rest as best she can. She takes a couple strides towards him, but keeps her distance, still. “I never meant to hurt you, Arch. That’s the last thing I ever want to do. I just think it’s for the best, that I leave you alone. You and V seem really happy. I want that for you. You have enough going on that you’re responsible for, you don’t need to waste any more of your time worrying about me.”

“Dammit, Betty. Will you stop? It’s not a waste of my time. It’s not getting in the way of my priorities, it is my priority.” He seems exasperated with her now, almost angry. Good, she thinks. Maybe if he gets angry enough, she can make him leave on his own accord. “ _ You _ are my priority.” He clarifies, so there can be no misconstruction of his words. “You just won’t be around me long enough to fucking notice!”

“Archie, I,”

“No, I’m not done.” He moves in front of her now. “Yes, I’ve hooked up with Veronica and yes, it’s been fun.” She averts her eyes from his. “But it wasn’t what I wanted, Betty. Or needed. Veronica is familiar, it’s like a blast from the past being together again.” He admits, “But, I was longing for a simpler time and that time is long past Betty. Veronica and I,” He swallows, “We don’t make sense anymore. Not the way I wanted us to. We are not the same people we were in high school any more, none of us are.”

“You’re telling me,” She remarks, still not looking at him. “Well, I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for with her.” She says with actual sincerity. “I was rooting for you two.” 

“I’ve missed you. The whole time.” He confesses, seemingly ignoring her words. “I told myself it was casual between us and just sex and I think I actually convinced myself it was true, because it was easier to focus on what I felt for Veronica, than it was to figure out what I was starting to feel with you; for you.” He sighs, not sure what else to say. “I just miss you.”

Her breath catches in her throat. It would be so easy to melt into a confession like that. An overwhelming part of her wants to, but that’s not the part that’s in control right now, so she doesn’t. Instead she shakes her head at him. “I think, you think that I need to be rescued and you feel like it’s your job to be the one who does it.”

“Then  _ you _ haven’t been paying attention.” He challenges back at her. “I don’t want to rescue you, I want to stand with you, through whatever the hell it is you’re going through right now. I just want to support you, is that so hard to believe? If you’d stop avoiding me, maybe you’d be able to see that.”

“It’s for the best Archie. Like I told you, I don’t want to drag you into my darkness. I want the light in the window to stay lit, you told me you’d be that for me, if that’s what I needed. Well, the light is already flickering, let’s be honest. If I stay away, at least I can keep it from going completely out a little longer,” She confesses.

“Escape with me again,” His voice is weak and his fingers twitch as they move to reach for her cautiously. “Maybe I need it as much as you do.” He adds quietly, brushing his fingers over hers, testing the waters. When she doesn’t flinch away, he pulls her hand into his.

She wants to believe that, truly, more than anything right now, she does. But, she can’t. It’s for the benefit of them both, really. “Then tell me, when’s the last time you slept with Veronica?” Her tone is more even than she’s been able to keep it the rest of their conversation.

“Betty,” He sighs.

“So, yesterday? Or is she in your bed right now waiting for you to get back from your run?” She moves to pull away, but he reels her in closer instead.

“It’s complicated,” He hates the choice of words as soon as he makes it. “Veronica and I aren’t on the same page and I don’t want to hurt her, especially when she’s already in such a fragile place with her divorce.” He admits. “And no, she’s not waiting for me at home. I left her house yesterday after we finished laying the new floors and I haven’t seen her since.” Before she can ask for clarification, he supplies, “But we slept together, yes.” He looks down, ashamed to tell her that. “We agreed to keep things casual until she finalizes things with Chad and the divorce, I’m just not sure how to walk it back.

“You apparently suck as casual.” She decrees, shaking her head and it actually makes them exchange a brief smile. It’s fleeting though, as she clears her throat and adds. “Seems like you have a new escape of your own, I don’t think you need it with me anymore.”

“It doesn’t feel like an escape with her,” he confesses quickly, “It’s just another obligation.” 

“So to be clear, you want me to be your dirty little secret on the side, while you continue to pursue Veronica to give her a false sense of comfort during her time of need?” She fixes him with a stare, “Sorry, just trying to make sure I have all the information before I drop to my knees for you.”

He glares at her for a second, more at the harshness of her words. He ignores them and goes with, “I’m saying I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m saying I was there when you needed me and now, I need you this time.” He mutters sadly, leaning towards her. “You like to say that I’m always saving everyone else. Well, Betty, maybe you’re the one who saves me.”

She’s powerless to that claim, completely. She leans up and captures his lips with hers, pressing her body into his. His arms wrap around her waist instantly, pulling her closer as her hands cup his face. They kiss with unbridled need, as if they can’t get enough of each other. “Do you have the keys to your office?” She asks, breathlessly, her pupils blown with desire.

“Yes,” He confirms, pulling her towards him, kissing her hungrily again. 

The track surrounds the football field, which is bordered by the locker room. That’s attached to his office, which is much closer right now than either of their bedrooms. It takes no time at all for them to get there, but it’s enough that she knows if he’s ready to reconsider, he’ll confess it now. She holds her breath, waiting for that to happen.

He doesn’t though, as soon as the door shuts behind them, his arms are around her again and his lips press to her neck. “Are you sure you want this, Betts?” He asks, turning her around to face him.

“Are you?” She asks quickly, reaching for him again as if to confirm her own wants. Maybe she shouldn’t give into the temptation, but it’s too great and now that she’s had a taste of this drug, she needs the fix. 

“Of course,” He sighs against her mouth, kissing her ardently again. His hands make fast work of her top exploring terrain he’s missed desperately. “I’ve missed you, so much.” He reiterates, tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth, his hands slipping into the waistband of her leggings, tugging them past her hips. 

“I’ve missed you too,” She sighs, her own hands moving for the drawstring of his shorts, where she finds his want for her more than apparent. It makes her breath catch and she bites her lip at how it makes her feel. “Where should we?” She trails off, looking around the room. There’s not much in the way of furniture aside from his rickety old desk chair and the desk itself, which is scattered with papers, pencils, clipboards, and other miscellaneous supplies. 

Neither seem like great options until he wraps the front of his desk and his husky voice suggests, “You could turn around and bend over right here.”

Her face flushes, but not with embarrassment, with pure desire. She leans forward, kissing him passionately before doing as he’s suggested. It’s the way he’s kissing her neck, gripping her hips as he enters her, that makes her gasp. His need for her is desperate, his lips littering her neck, shoulders, back, and spine with kisses as they so sensually connect. He’d like to take his time with her, but they’ve got their venue to consider and a time constraint known as student arrival that threatens to ruin their fun, so he isn’t able to. Nevertheless, he makes it seem effortless to make her fall apart, which he still manages to do twice before losing himself in her. After he does, his forehead comes to rest between her shoulder blades, where he presses a lingering kiss, before pulling her back against his chest tenderly. “I needed you, so bad.” He whispers, turning her around, pulling her into an impassioned kiss. 

It’s a confession that makes her heart swell and race wildly. “Archie,” She mutters, drawing back. They shouldn’t have done that, she knows it’s true, but it doesn’t mean it felt any less amazing in the moment. Now, though, she’s starting to feel like they’ve crossed a line she should have been harder on staying on the other side of. “I should go, I have to get ready for work.”

He kisses her again, but nods. “When can I see you again?”

“I, uh,” She starts and stops. “I’m not sure.” She draws her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing gently there. “I promise to stop avoiding you though, okay?” She rises to her tip toes and slides her leggings back up before handing him his shirt, which had been heaped on top of hers on the floor. “I needed you too,” She confesses quickly, kissing him one last time before heading out the door without saying goodbye.

She doesn’t uphold her promise. She’s not sure why she made it in the first place, because she knows she never intended to keep it. She’s avoiding him for his own good, that’s what she’s been telling herself at least. It’s been three days since they fucked in his office and she’s hardly spared him a glance since. She even moved the key out from under the gnome so he couldn’t drop by unexpectedly, which she felt he may be inclined to do after sending her three general texts that she leaves unanswered and a fourth that simply read, ‘Thought you weren’t avoiding me?’ She doesn’t reply to that either.

But then, Weatherby calls a staff meeting and she can’t stay away from him any longer. Especially when he practically makes a beeline towards where she’s standing next to Kevin, clutching her coffee nervously as soon as he enters the room. He doesn’t say anything other than a normal greeting to them both, but he does stand behind her, not too close, but she can still feel him all around her. It’s almost unnerving. 

She hardly even hears Weatherby’s announcements. All she can focus on is the heat radiating off of Archie as he stands unassumingly behind her. She doesn’t even notice the people around her starting to leave at the meeting’s conclusion, until he’s grabbing her shoulder. “You good, Betts?” He inquires, innocently enough.

No, she wants to scream. No, she’s not good, in fact she’s decidedly the opposite of good. She’s terrible, awful, horrible. She wants to kiss him, be held by him, she wants him to make her moan his name in pleasure like he did days ago. But she knows it’s not right and it’s not how things are meant to be. She especially knows it when Veronica slinks up next to him, looping her arms around his left bicep. “Archiekins,” She begins with a syrupy sweetness, “I was thinking we could head to Pop’s after school? I’m dying for a chocolate milkshake and we need  _ another _ date night.” 

It’s the out Betty needs. She gives him a weak smile and then heads out, leaving him to talk to Veronica alone. She isn’t sure whether or not he agrees to take the other woman to Pop’s, but she’s glad she doesn’t stick around to find out. She runs to the auto-shop room, slips into the backseat of the car really only Britta has been competent enough to help her restore, and cries. Pop’s was her’s and Archie’s. Now, it was his and Veronica’s. She pretends it’s the place it hurts the most to lose and not the person, but that’s just a blatant lie. 

He still climbs up her trellis that night, tapping on her window much to her surprise. She’s wearing the RROTC shirt he left in her room what feels like weeks ago now, and nothing else because it smells like him and when she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend he’s laying next to her. 

She doesn’t want to let him in, she knows it’s a bad idea, but she finds herself rising from the bed and unlatching the window regardless of those misgivings. “You moved the key?” He inquires, tilting his head to the side before turning to close the window behind him. “Coincidence or on purpose to keep me out?” 

She shrugs, he already knows the answer, she’s not going to say it aloud. “What are you doing here, Arch?” She asks, standing in a defensive pose with her arms folded across her chest. “Don’t you have milkshakes to drink and backsplash to install in between rounds of voraciously banging Veronica?”

“You’re wearing my shirt,” He swallows hard, registering her appearance and ignoring the insidious questions she’s asked. He licks his lips after taking her in lingeringly.

She actually blushes at the way he’s looking at her, like he’s hungry. “What, you come to take it back?” She asks sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him.

His only response is a furious nod and a husky, “Yes, take it off, now.” Next, his hands are sliding under the hem, gathering the fabric in his hand and bunching it at her stomach rather than actually pulling it over her head. Then, his lips find hers again for the first time in too many days. He pulls her against him, his hands cold against her warm skin. It makes her shiver and nuzzle closer, even though she knows she shouldn’t.

She lets herself kiss him back, because the problem has never been wanting him and she’s only human after all. But his lips taste sweet, like a strawberry milkshake, and it’s enough to bring her back to reality. “Archie, what are we doing?” She groans, pushing lightly against his chest, stopping the sensual stream of kisses they’ve been sharing. “You were just on a date with Veronica.” She reminds him dejectedly. 

“Actually,” He corrects, “I invited Jackson and Fangs to join us, so technically, it was more of a group hang.” 

Her heart clenches, though she wishes it wouldn’t. “Oh,” She tries to act casual. “Sounds fun.”

“I thought I could stay the night with you,” His voice is quiet, reverent almost, like if he asks her just right she’ll have to say yes. “ _ Sleep  _ together, as in next to each other, not with each other.”

“Arch, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” She starts, biting her lip as she studies him, a mixture of longing and contemplation playing on her features. For some reason, sex actually seems like the safer of the two options for them right now. 

“What if I need it Betty? Hmm?” His hand is wrapped around her throat non threateningly. “Will you say yes then, if it’s for my sake and not yours?”

It shouldn’t work like that, but it does. So easily, too. Maybe any excuse he’d given her would have made her reconsider, but this one certainly does. “Just sleep?” She’s quizzical, like she can’t really believe that’s the key motivation here.

“Just sleep,” He confirms, sinking onto her bed and pulling her with him as he kicks off his shoes. “I just miss you, Betty.” He whispers, kissing her longingly once more before lying down, his arm wrapping securely around her waist as she joins him. 

In truth, this is almost as good as the sex. He takes his shirt off and she can feel the heat that radiates off his chest as he presses against her back, even through the fabric of the shirt she still wears. “I told Veronica, that I have feelings for you.” He whispers, just barely, against her shoulder where he’s tugged the oversized shirt she wears down enough to expose a generous amount of skin there. He can feel her tense at the confession. “I didn’t say we’re hooking up again, it seemed like something you wanted to keep between us.” He laments, “But I needed her to understand that I can’t be all in with her.”

“So, did she break things off?” She tries not to sound as hopeful as the question makes her feel.

“Not exactly,” He admits, earnest if nothing else. “But she did say she understands if I need to figure things out with you.”

“To get me out of your system, that’s what she means.” She tries to act unaffected. “Maybe you need to fuck me to do that?” She inquires, grinding against him with self depreciation. “I think we both know why you’re really here.”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” He mutters, his hand moving to still her hips. “I just want to hold you.” He confesses quietly. 

She doesn’t want to love the way that sounds or feels when his arms are around her and she’s so fully immersed in these feelings he claims to have for her that go beyond the shared desires they’ve already admitted to and indulged in. But it feels good. It feels  _ so _ fucking good when he’s holding her like this. When his fingers are tracing small circles and lines against her outer thigh like this. When his breath tickles the back of her neck and makes the hairs their stand up. She hates how she aches for him, especially as his hand drifts between her legs, squeezing her inner thigh gently. She practically moans at the mere contact alone. 

“I can’t sleep,” She mumbles, rolling onto her back, and staring up at the ceiling after half an hour of laying together peacefully.

He doesn’t say anything, just gives her a stormy look with his dark eyes and then he rises up onto his knees, fingers hooking into her underwear to slide them down her legs. He doesn’t fuck her, he doesn’t even try to actually. But he goes down on her and while every time he’s done that it’s been amazing, this time he utterly outdoes himself. She has to pull her pillow over her face to muffle the sounds of her obvious moans and whines as he takes care of her. He trails kisses back up her stomach and over her breasts after she cums, pressing a slow, open-mouthed one to her lips once he reaches her face. “Maybe now, you can sleep.” He mumbles, pulling her against his chest again. “I’m not going anywhere.” He adds, the words lost in her hair.

The promise he seems to make is just as helpful as the orgasm he’s just brought her to. She falls asleep and for a nice change, doesn’t find herself plagued with any nightmares at all. The light in the window has never felt brighter, she thinks, when she wakes up the next morning, tangled in him. 

“Elizabeth,” Her mother’s voice interrupts the serenity of the moment and she doesn’t have a chance to shout at her not to come in before the door handle is twisting and being shoved in. Her mother’s eyes fall on her and Archie on the bed and then on her panties on the floor and she gasps before her jaw falls agape; her daughter’s face blushes a deep crimson. “At least it’s not fucking Jughead.” He mutters, turning around immediately and exiting the room before Betty has a chance to speak, pulling the door closed quickly behind her.

“Oh my fucking God!” She says, mortified as she looks at Archie who has the audacity to be amused by their current predicament. “This is nuclear bad. She is going to have so many questions and unlike Kevin, she is definitely okay with slut shaming!” She covers her face with her hands, falling against her pillows.

“You’re a grown woman, Betty. A gorgeous woman.” He adds emphatically. “She knows you’ve had sex. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. I think she handled that pretty well actually,” He shrugs and kisses her shoulder. 

“Not a big deal? To Alice Cooper?” She stares at him aghast, “Have you met my mother, Archie? She is going to chew me up over this later and she is going to interrogate me like the natural born investigative journalist she’s always been.” She sighs and rises from the bed, distraught. “You should go get ready for school, Arch.” She adds in a clear attempt at avoidance of further discussion of the matter.

He decides not to let her off the hook that easily, “So what are you going to tell her? When she asks what’s going on with us?” He inquires with genuine curiosity, stepping back into his jeans which he’d discarded sometime during the night.

“Well, I guess I’ll start with how I was your booty call for a month and how now we’re having weird trauma-avoidance sex with each other or snuggling all night after you went down on me. I’m sure she’ll handle all of that super well, too.” She adds, her words obviously dripping with sarcasm.

“Honesty is the best policy, after all.” He smirks, wrapping his arms around her from behind and looking at her through her vanity mirror. “Except I might phrase it as neither of us are in the right place for a relationship but we have feelings for each other we’re trying to work out.”

She can’t help but smile at him, turning around to look at him, her arms looping around his neck. When he phrases it like that, it makes whatever this is they’re doing seem less wrong. “Who says I have feelings for you?” She teases, “Oh, awkward this has just been about sex for me still.” 

He rolls his eyes at her, stealing another kiss. “Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He winks, heading towards her door.

“What are you doing?” She asks, wide-eyed. “Use the trellis!”

“Betty,” He laughs. “She already knows I’m here.”

“If you go down there, she’ll accost you for rapid fire questioning! You break easily, Archie!” She accuses, smiling still. “I can’t risk it.”

“I can hold my own against Alice Cooper now, Betty. I’m Army trained and tested!” He defends, but still, he moves to unlatch the window and shove it up slightly anyway. He leans back in to kiss her, half his body dangling out her window. “See you at school?” He asks, his voice hopeful.

“Maybe,” She replies with a shrug, leaning in to kiss him languorously once more in a way that actually answers his question more clearly. The kiss is her apology, that maybe really means no, and likely he won’t be seeing her again for a few days if she can help it.

It’s only two, this time. Kevin’s convinced her to meet him for drinks, he and Fangs hooked up and he’s not sure what to do with his feelings about it. She considers confessing to him about her and Archie rekindling things too, but last time, it didn’t seem to work out so well, so she decides not to jinx it. Instead she joins him in drowning her sorrows in shots of vodka, and then even less responsibly; tequila.

That’s what leads to her noisily stumbling into Archie’s house after spending a very long time trying to decipher which of the rocks near the front door were real and which was the fake one holding the spare key. He flicks on the hall light, squinting at what he assumes is a threat when he sees her and he can’t help but smile. “Arch,” She attempts a whisper, but it’s extremely loud and he just shakes his head, rushing down to meet her. He wraps his arm around her waist, helping her stumble up a couple steps. “Full disclosure,” She continues in her not-whisper, “I had a  _ little _ bit to drink.” She admits, bursting into giggles.

“Shh,” He cautions, bringing his finger to her lips. But when she slips it into her mouth wantonly rather than using it as a warning sign, his eyes go wide. “My roommates are sleeping,” He pulls his finger out from between her gorgeously full lips, attempting to usher her up the stairs.

“So I probably shouldn’t do this then, hmm?” This time, it’s an actual whisper and she presses her lips to his, her tongue slipping into his mouth before he can protest.

He kisses her for a moment but then thinks better of it, pulling away. “Why don’t we wait until we’re in my bedroom, beautiful.” He mutters softly, moving in one swift motion to pick her up in a fireman’s carry, her knees draped over his arm as the other is wrapped securely around her back.

It makes her giggle again and he’s got no hands to silence her this time, so he uses his mouth, kissing her slowly even though he’s just advised her against it. They’re almost to his door when he sets her down, pressing her against the wall and allowing himself to get lost in the stream of wanton kisses she’s peppering against his lips now. “Betty,” He laughs quietly, his hand reaching for the door handle. He practically shoves her inside when he hears a door open, but thankfully it’s Jackson who’s exiting the bathroom and not Jughead. 

He still locks his door behind them for good measure and his smile broadens as she dives onto his bed, settling herself in the center. She’s clearly comfortable amongst the comforter and pillows she’s tugged down to surround herself with. “You’re too far away,” She complains, pouting out that full bottom lip in a truly irresistible way.

He lets himself capture it between his, tugging it into his mouth and sucking gently before kissing her slowly and carefully. “I'm going to get you some water.” He grins, kissing her forehead.

He returns a few moments later, a bottle of water and two Tylenol in his hand. “You should take these, just in case.” He adds, assuming by her sloppy smile and accompanying hiccup that she’s had more than just a little bit to drink. She’ll appreciate the edge the medicine takes off her hangover in the morning.

“Are you taking care of me, Arch?” She smiles reverently at him. “You’re so sweet. You’d make the best boyfriend,” She whispers, kissing him sloppily before throwing her legs over the side of the bed, taking a swig of water and swallowing the pills. “We can have sex, but I can’t stay the night. I feel too many  _ things _ when I wake up next to you,” She confesses, probably more honestly than she would otherwise.

“You’re drunk,” He grins at her. He says that, because he’s not going to have sex with her when she’s drunk, not when he doesn’t know it’s what she’d really want sober, too. “But what kinds of things are you feeling when you wake up with me?” He inquires, tugging her towards him again. She settles into the crook of his arm easily. He won’t take advantage of her body when she’s drunk, but he will take advantage of the honesty she usually keeps far closer to cuff than she’s willing to right now..

“Everything, Arch.” She sighs contentedly. “ _ You’re _ everything.” She confesses, snuggling into his side.

He smiles at that, kissing her forehead again. “You’re everything, too, Betts.” He whispers, his fingers coming up to stroke through her hair gingerly. 

“No,” Refuting that immediately, she shakes her head, but the act is nauseating, so she stops just as fast. “I’m like half of everything.” She argues. “Veronica’s half too. It’s complicated,” She laughs for some reason at the last part, probably because it sounds just as ridiculous when she says it now as when he did before, too.

“Betts,” He starts, his tone already remorseful.

“It’s okay Arch,” She shakes her head and presses a sleepy kiss to his bare chest. “I’d rather have half of your heart then none of it.”

“Pretty sure you have all of it,” He mutters quietly on purpose and he knows she doesn’t hear him. “Why don’t you rest your eyes a second?” He suggests more audibly, kissing her cheek. He stands up and pulls off her heels, setting them at the foot of the bed.

“This dress is itchy,” She whines, pulling herself up to her knees and facing her back to him. She’s already discarded her cream cardigan to the floor. “Help?” She requests innocently, nodding over her shoulder at the zipper of the light pink dress.

He bites her lip, because despite all the things they’ve done together, this somehow feels the most intimate. “Of ‘course,” he nods, moving behind her, his fingers tugging slowly at her zipper. He can’t help but press kisses against the patches of skin that become exposed as he drags the small metal piece down. He leaves a path of goosebumps as he goes and notices how she shivers as he helps her peel the dress off. 

He let’s himself imagine, just for a moment, a more domestic version of this exact situation. One where they’ve been together awhile, maybe they’re even married, and he does this same thing for her after every party they attend or forced family function Alice has dragged them to. He smiles fondly at the idea and then let’s it float away again. 

He grabs a shirt from his drawer and tosses it to her. She frowns, “This one isn’t as good, doesn’t smell like you.” She sighs, pulling it on anyway. 

“I smell like me,” He smirks, “C’mere.” He adds, tugging at her hand as he lays back down. 

She falls asleep almost instantly, with her leg wrapped around his waist and her hand listing over his heart, but not before the heaviest whispered confession of all makes its way out of her mouth. “I love you, Arch.”

It’s so quiet he’s not sure if he’s really heard it or if he just wants to hear it so bad that he’s hallucinating. Regardless, he drops a kiss to the top of her head and smiles to himself, allowing himself to believe it was real. “I love you too, Betts.”

He finds sleep soon after as well and it’s a few good hours before reality is tugging her back towards the waking world. 

“Sorry, about coming over like that last night,” She apologies, before it’s really even morning yet. She’s much more sober now, but the sun isn’t up and he’s not ready to be awake yet. 

He draws her against him again, “Shh. S’okay. Go back to sleep.” He mumbles lazily, nuzzling into her hair and cuddling up against her again.

“I have to get home,” She retorts softly, unable to resist the temptation of drawing his hand up to her lips, pressing a tender kiss to his open palm.

“No,” He protests, trapping her legs between his. “It’s Saturday, we can sleep in.” He adds as evidence.

“I should  _ still _ go, Arch.” She sighs, putting in very little actual effort to wriggle out of his grasp. It seems she might be easily convinced to stay, if he just says the right thing.

“I want you to stay,” He matches, squeezing her thigh beneath the covers. “Jughead will be leaving for his shift at Pop’s soon and Jackson’s on the early duty at the fire station. I’ll make you breakfast.” He adds, hoping that’s enough to convince her, his hand splayed across her stomach.

Maybe it’s the mention of food that makes her queasy, but her stomach clenches and she shoots out of his bed, making a beeline for the bathroom where she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet twice before swishing around mouthwash and making the mortifying trek back to his bedroom. “You okay?” He asks, propping himself up.

“Well, I’m never going drinking with Kevin again, for starters.” She grins, shaking her head. “And I should really go, I mean, I just threw up in your bathroom if that's not overstaying my welcome, I don’t know what is.” She tries to keep it light. 

“Everybody throws up, once in a while Betts. It’s no big deal, you don’t have to leave.” He shrugs, but then she draws her hand back to her mouth at the notion of vomiting and proceeds to head back to the bathroom to dry heave a few times. 

This time, when she gets back, she shakes her head. “If I ever want you to find me sexy again, I  _ do _ have to leave.” She tries to smile brightly at him, but she still feels like she could be sick again at any moment even knowing she’s got nothing left to throw up at this point.

“Text me, let me know if you’re feeling better later?” He requests, knowing she won’t, but asking anyway.

“Okay, Arch. Thanks for letting me crash.” She whispers, slipping out his door before she loses her resolve to leave.

Betty’s feeling less green when she lays down in her own bed, but the room still feels like it's spinning just as much as her head is. Last night is a bit of a blur, but she can remember bits and pieces of heading over to Archie’s and she wishes she was still tangled up with him in his blue linen bed sheets rather than resting against hers alone again.

She hasn’t had a hangover like this since freshman year of college, before she knew her limits and how to tolerate hard liquor by pacing herself. Still, this feels different. She rolls onto her side, trying to recall what she ate last night that could be causing her such grief. 

It’s not until she’s leaned over the bathroom sink brushing her teeth for the third time, trying to get the awful taste of bile out of her mouth, that she sees the box of tampons sitting unopened by her toilet. All at once, the realization seems to hit. Has she even used one since she’s been back home? It’s been how many weeks since she’d last had her period? She tries to do the math, but so many other thoughts are bouncing around in her brain right now, she can’t think straight.

Rather than stress about an unknown, she grabs Alice’s keys, jumps in her car, and drives to a drug store in Greendale for good measure, so no one she knows sees her buy the three pack box of digital results tests.

The drive back home feels like forever, but it’s nothing compared to the three minute timer she sets on her phone as she stares at the long, cylindrically shaped piece of plastic she’s just peed on that could very well hold the answer to the scariest question she’s asked herself in a long time. The blue cap stares at her dauntingly as it remains face down while the seconds seem to tick by in excruciatingly slow motion. 

Despite the fact she’s been staring at the test the entire time, she still jumps when the timer finally chimes. She can’t seem to bring herself to actually flip it over and look at the results right away, but finally she musters the courage and takes a deep breath, flipping the test over on the laminate countertop. 

These results leave nothing to decipher, no pink lines to read. Just a simple word that stares boldly back at her, unrelenting.

**Pregnant**

Well, what the fuck is she going to do now?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Discussion/contemplation of abortion and pregnancy.
> 
> Thank you sincerely to everyone who left a review, I cannot explain to you how much it means to me! I know we're all hurting after 5x08 and this isn't exactly a fix it fic, but hopefully it brings you some sense of relief. But fair warning, it might fuck you up a little bit worse. Just full disclosure. But who are we kidding? If you're a fan of this ship, you're already a glutton for punishment!

This is not in her life plan.

That’s the phrase that seems to keep repeating in her mind as she practically paces a hole into her bedroom floor. “False positives totally happen.” She tells herself, but it’s not very reassuring.

Still, she chugs some water and takes the other two tests in the box. They only yield the same result. She knows false positives are rare, but at the same time, it was the last shred of hope she was holding onto that this wasn’t really happening. That it was all part of a bad dream she could wake up from. But this is none of that; this is a waking nightmare.

She takes the box and wrappers, and shoves them into her closet, deciding that having Alice or the twins find them might be catastrophic. Then, she takes the three tests, drops them into a ziplock bag, and shoves them into the inside pocket of the suitcase she’s brought down with her from Quantico.

She’s not ready to confront or deal with any of the implications of what she’s just learned to be true. So, she stays in bed all day crying, forcing herself to drink some water, and trying to figure out what the fuck she’s going to do now.

She’s in no place to have a child right now and she’s honestly not even sure she’s cut out to be a mother. Not when she’s filled with such an overwhelming darkness. There are so many of her own toxic traits she’s afraid of passing down to her offspring. More than once, she’s toyed with the idea of not having any children at all. On top of that, it’s not exactly conducive to her FBI training to be with child either. And then, there’s her investigation into Polly’s disappearance and the other girls. That case is currently causing her so much stress; it can’t be healthy for Betty herself, much less a baby.

A  _ baby _ .

It’s the first time she’s let herself consider it like that and the feeling overwhelms her again. A baby; that’s a little bit her and a little bit Archie. She draws her face into her hands, burying herself in them as she sobs. In some other version of her life, the idea of having Archie’s baby might excite her. But in the here and now, it’s the most daunting prospect she can imagine.

Archie texts her twice, the first of which she ignores but she decides to answer his second attempt at making sure she’s alright, if only to get him to drop it faster. It’s not exactly a lie either.

_ I’m fine, just not drinking again for a while. _

She can’t deny the happiness she feels, when she sees the three dots pop up, indicating he’s messaging her back almost instantly.

**Good.**

She’s a little disappointed by the reply, until the dots pop up again and another message comes through a moment later that has her smiling, despite everything else.

**You want to stay over again tonight?**

Her fingers start typing ‘yes’ before she can stop herself but she paues before hitting send. No, this is not a good idea. Not a good idea at all. Yes, Archie deserves to learn the news she’s just discovered. Not only that, he deserves to know before anyone else. And yes, she’s aware that she has to tell him at some point, but she’s just not ready yet. She doesn’t know how she feels or what she even wants to do about the situation. She has a strong feeling those are things she needs to figure out, at least at a surface level, before she does clue him in to the situation on their hands.

She cannot allow herself to seek comfort in him when she’s withholding such an important truth from him. She erases the ‘yes’ and instead texts back a safer response.

_ Can’t tonight, sorry. _

Then, she tosses her phone onto her nightstand and buries her face in the pillows again in an attempt to avoid everything a little longer.

She’s successful in her efforts the rest of the weekend. She ignores every message she gets from Archie, it seems to be the only way she can keep herself from a total breakdown.

She manages to convince Alice she’s got a stomach bug related to eating food from the school cafeteria on Friday. That helps her to successfully avoid the older woman and her niece and nephew as well. She can’t bear to be around anyone right now; especially her missing sister’s children.

She and her mother had already had a very frank discussion about her  _ situation _ with Archie after she’d happened upon them together. The major takeaway from that talk was that as long as she was safe, Alice didn’t care what Betty did or with whom. That just makes her feel even more shitty about being unexpectedly pregnant. She tries to pretend she never took those tests. She wishes she could unlearn the truth, go back to not knowing. 

She’s good at pretending, because by Sunday evening she’s pulling off borderline normal. Well, as normal as she’s been lately at least, with all that’s going on. She’s managed to follow up on a couple leads in Polly’s case and while they all turn out to be dead ends, at least it takes her mind of things for a little while. But it’s just another stressor she’s latched on to, to avoid the one she really needs to address sooner rather than later. 

She decides to force herself out the house, maybe getting some fresh air will be good for her and a walk might help clear her head. She regrets her decision immediately though, because as soon as she exits the front door, her eyes can’t help but cast over to Archie’s front porch. He’s standing in the doorframe, or more like he’s leaning against it, and Veronica is drawn into him, her hands pressed to his taut chest while they make out shamelessly. His hands are resting on her ass, she notes repugnantly. 

The sight makes her heart sink and this time, the nausea isn’t related to the growing problem in her belly. She considers heading back inside, but she’s on the brink of a total nervous breakdown at this point and if Alice looks at her face right now and asks what’s wrong? Well, Betty might just spill everything to her and she can’t have that happening.

So, she holds her chin higher, takes a few deep breaths and starts down her steps. Taking a sharp left, the opposite direction of Archie’s house, she hopes against all hope that neither of them have noticed her.

The early fall air is refreshing, and thanks to the sunlight that’s still cresting slightly above the horizon line, it’s still warm enough to feel pleasant. She tugs her oversized cardigan closer around herself, tucking her sleeves over each of her hands more for comfort than to keep them from getting cold. 

Archie’s told her that things don’t feel right between him and Veronica; that being with her has felt obligatory at this point. However, it doesn’t seem like that from where she’d just been standing and observing. They looked happy and like they were  _ more _ than enjoying themselves. 

Veronica’s hair, which is usually perfectly in place, was disheveled enough to tell a story Betty’s mind is more than happy to run away with. She tries not to let it break her heart, because she knows it shouldn’t. She knows what Archie’s been doing with Veronica and she hasn’t stayed away from him. She  _ can’t _ stay away from him, even knowing she should. She vows to herself to get better at it. She knows that it’s best to end things for real with him and figure out this pregnancy thing as a separate entity, completely removed from all of that.

In fact, by the time she’s strolling back onto their street as the sun sets, she’s actually convinced herself she’s going to go through with it. That is, until she sees him sitting on the steps in front of her house, apparently waiting for her and her resolve starts to weaken. “Betty,” He looks up at her, saying her name gently as he stands up and strides towards her, “I know you saw me and Ronnie, but if you’ll just hear me out real quick, please?”

His concerned eyes search hers for a moment but then she casts them down to the ground, as if to muster her courage. “Looked like you two had a good time together, which is weird since you’re only with her out of, what was that word you used?  _ Obligation? _ ” She dead pans, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other, before throwing up her hands in defeat. “I really don’t want to do this right now, Arch. I’m tired and I still don’t feel great.”

“I know what it looked like,” He defends, stepping towards her again. “And I know how this is going to sound, but it’s  _ not _ what you think.”

She rolls her eyes at him, he’s right, it does sound bad. “Not what I think?” She pulls a face at him, something like amusement with a hint of disbelief. “I think you just fucked her and it was so good, she was ready for round two on the way out. Am I close?”

He closes his eyes and his face says everything she needs to have the answer to her question. “Betty, it wasn’t like that.” He still defends weakly.

“So you didn’t fuck her?” She asks harshly, which makes him clench his jaw. “No, I want to hear you say it. Because, it’s  _ not like that _ , right?” She feels irrationally angry at him and she knows it has nothing to do with catching him making out with Veronica or the fact that he’s slept with her, not really.

“Yes, we hooked up.” It’s all he can get out before she’s shaking her head, an ‘I told you so look’ evident on her face, like she’s just caught him in her trap. “But, if you would just listen to me-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Arch. This  _ thing _ between us?” The courage she’d lost seeing him on her stoop returns at once. “It’s over. For good this time. We’re toxic for each other. We never should have started things back up, it was never going to end well, for anybody.” She starts to cry and she knows he’s going to try and hold her and she’ll be powerless to the offering of comfort so she pushes past him, her shoulder bumping hard against his. “Don’t fucking follow me, or our friendship will be over too.” She warns, her tone biting and more malevolent than she means to sound.

She makes it up the stairs in record time and dives into her bed, bolstering the covers around her like a protective layer. She calls out of work the next day, she can’t bear to face him even though she knows that what she’s done, as awful as it feels right now, is for the best. 

She means to use the day to focus on Polly’s case, but she ends up doing research of a different kind instead.

Meanwhile, he sends a record eight texts, all different variations of ‘can we talk,’ ‘are you alright,’ and ‘I just want to see you.’ She knows she can’t ignore him forever and it’ll be better to face him now, then be cornered by him at school tomorrow for this conversation. So, she sends a text letting him know they can talk after he gets home from school, which gives her approximately four hours to mentally prepare herself for what she assumes will be the hardest conversation she ever has with him.

The time passes at warp speed for her, yet crawls by for him.

**You want to come over, or should I?**

He sends the message as soon as the dismissal bell rings. She doesn’t bother answering him, but she’s waiting on his front porch, which he guesses is enough of a response in the end. He can see her pacing back and forth as he approaches and he quickens his pace to get to her sooner. He’s not sure what, but he can tell something is wrong. “Hey,” He says quietly, as if anything louder might scare her away.

“Let’s go upstairs.” She returns simply, devoid of a greeting. She’s ready to come out with it all right now, because she’s afraid of losing her nerve otherwise. In fact, she’s ready to speak as soon as his door shuts, but he beats her to it, with his own confession.

“I ended things with Veronica,” He stammers out quickly, before she has a chance to cut him off or dominate the conversation. He turns to look at her and finds the stunned look on her face, “Before you,” He swallows and redirects. “That’s what you saw. Yes, it looked bad. But, Veronica has a thing about break up sex I guess.” He shrugs uncomfortably, hating to supply that last detail but also wanting to be completely honest. “I ended things with her because I want something real with-”

“ _ Don’t _ ,” Her eyes are watering as she cuts him off before he can say something that breaks her heart even more completely. “Don’t say things like that until you hear what I have to say, please.”

“Nothing you could possibly say is going to change the way I feel about you,” His own voice is thick with emotion and he steps towards her but she backs away, clutching the backpack strap she has slung over her shoulder with white knuckles.

“Archie, please! You don’t know that!” She shakes her head and moves towards his bed, setting down the bag she’s previously clung to for dear life. This is already falling apart from the plan she’d crafted in her room. His confession is throwing her off and while she wants to focus on that right now instead, she knows she can’t.

“What I’m going to tell you is a lot,” She finally moves into his orbit and reaches out to touch him on his shoulders, urging him to sit down. When she moves to let go, he places his hand on top of hers tenderly and stills it there instead. “And I understand if you’re angry or upset either with me or at the situation.” She knows she’s probably not making sense but, her heart is racing and maybe it’s a good idea for her to sit down too, but she stays standing in case she needs to make a fast break out of there when this inevitably overwhelms her.

“Betty, just tell me what’s going on.” He requests warily, his eyes worried as they search hers for answers again. He’s not sure what she’s trying to say but, the way she’s preparing him, he’s anticipating the worst.

“Arch,” She doesn’t want to look at him for this part, so she glances down at her lap. But then, she knows he deserves to be looked in the eye when she tells him the truth so she musters up the courage again. “I’m,” She purses her lips to stop them from quivering, shaking her head, surprised at how hard this part is to say out loud. “Arch,” She blinks a few times, unable to speak as she’s overcome with emotion, her eyes locked onto his. 

He tries to help, pulling her towards him and trying to offer her some comfort, but that only seems to make it even harder to speak. “Betty, whatever it is, I’m here for you.” He whispers, grasping onto the backs of her thighs as she stands in front of him, desperate for the connection.

Her shaking shoulders seem to confirm that the words aren’t going to come out on their own, so she goes for the next best thing. Unzipping the backpack, she dips her hand in and takes out the gallon sized, clear ziplock and then hands it to him emphatically. “I’m sorry,” is all she can seem to manage. “We fucked up.”

It takes a moment for it all to register for him, Archie’s always been a little slow on the uptake after all. But as his gaze drifts from her red-eyed, tear-stained face to the bag she’s deposited in his hand, the realization begins to dawn. He knows what’s in the bag, and he doesn’t have to take them out and read their results to know what she’s trying to tell him. 

_ Holy. Fucking. Shit. _

It’s similar to what it’s like being in the vicinity of a grenade going off, he thinks as his vision and hearing seem to blur. He drops the bag of tests onto his mattress and swallows hard, blinking a couple times and taking it all in. His heart is hammering hard in his chest and it’s almost like he’s forgotten how to articulate anything to say at all. That is, until his eyes drift over her face and he notices she’s crying harder now, though it’s evident she is giving it all she’s got not to be. 

_ Betty _ . 

Fuck! Betty’s  _ pregnant _ , with  _ his _ baby. “ _ You’re _ ?  _ We _ ?  _ I’m _ ?” He’s in a state of pure shock and disbelief.

She nods tearfully, “I’m pregnant.” She confirms regretfully, it’s the first time she’s said the words aloud. It feels surprisingly thrilling, even in the inherent chaos.

“Are you okay?” He finally manages to croak out something intelligible.

“No,” She admits, shaking her head and then covering her face with her hands as her shoulders begin to shake again. 

It’s instinctive, the way he reaches for her, pulling her into his chest to hold her against him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispers into her hair, “You’re not alone anymore, I’m here. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure it out.” He swears it like a solemn vow, pulling her impossibly closer. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.  _ Anything _ .”

She doesn’t say anything, she  _ can’t _ . Instead she moves to straddle his lap, buries her face into his neck and just lets him hold her. She cries for a while, but the way he strokes her back and runs his fingers through her hair eventually helps to calm her down enough that she’s able to draw back and look at him with bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks. “Sorry, I had a whole thing planned about how I was going to tell you and it fell apart.” She moves out of his lap but stays close to him, her thigh pressed to his. “I’m going to try and just get this next part out before I lose my nerve, so if you’d just let me talk that would be great.” She swallows hard and grabs her backpack, taking out a folder. If that was hard, this will be excruciating.

Clearing her throat, Betty launches into the next part like she’s giving a briefing on a case at work. “These are abortion clinics within an hours drive.” She says matter-of-factly opening the folder, “I highlighted the ones that have the best ratings, which is a weird thing to read reviews on, let me just say.” She shakes her head at herself and continues, trying to stay focused so she doesn’t become overwhelmed again. “I’ll need someone to drive me home after. I can ask Kevin if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, but I really don’t want to have to tell anyone else about this, if I can help it.” She feels her chest tighten and she blinks back the threatening tears. “I’ve been reading about the options and it seems like if I don’t do this soon, it might not be an option. I’ll need to go to the doctor to find out exactly how far along I am first so they can determine the best,” She swallows hard, “ _ procedure _ to perform.”

“So you already decided then?” He’s not sure what to say or how to feel but he knows this has to be up to her and not him. “Like, for sure?” He asks anyway, swallowing hard. 

“I don’t think there’s really any other option.” She responds quietly, looking at her lap again. “Do you, honestly?”

He’s sort of at a loss, “I’m still kind of processing the news, I guess it’s hard to think about what happens next.” He confesses. “But I’ll be here for you Betty, no matter what. We can talk about this, we can,” his frantic eyes search her face and he doesn’t really know what to say right now. 

She softens gently and reaches for his hands, because he’s going through this too, not just her and she has to remember that. “Archie, I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot. I just think that the quicker we take care of this, the faster we can move on and put it behind us.”

He looks upset but he nods in understanding. “Yeah, of course. You’re right.” He feels his lungs straining like he might cry and he wishes they’d done this in her room instead of his, so he could leave before he breaks down in front of her. A few tears betray him, slipping down his cheeks.

She’s not prepared to see him cry and it makes her own eyes well back up instantly. “Arch,” She whispers, her voice wet with emotion. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

He’s not okay, not even close. But he knows right now he’s got a duty to be strong for her and if there’s one thing he learned in the Army, it was how to perform, even under pressure. “I’ll be fine.” He says gently, swallowing down the rest of his feelings. “I just need you to be okay. For us to be,” He pauses and leans towards her again, his forehead pressing to hers. “I’m going to be here for you, no matter what.” He says emphatically. “You don’t have to go through this alone, through any of it.”

“I know,” Her lip quivers as she brings her hand to his face gently, cupping his cheek in appreciation. “I was able to get an appointment tomorrow, I found an OB in Greendale that could fit me in. It’s just to see how far along I am, but if you want to-”

“I’ll drive, what time?” He offers quickly; of course he’ll be there with her. Is that really even a question to her?

“3:45, so we’ll need to leave right from school to make it on time. Look, if you have practice,” She pauses when he starts shaking his head like there’s nothing that can keep him away.

“Do you really think football practice would take precedence over this?” He’s borderline incredulous, but he knows he can’t be mad at her right now. She’s processing a lot, she can take it out on him all she wants. “Just-I’ll meet you at my car, right after school and we’ll go together.” He reaches for her hand. “We’ll do all of this together, okay?”

Under different pretenses, that declaration might feel romantic. But under this one, it just makes her feel more upset. “I should probably go.” She decides finally, standing up.   


“You should stay.” He replies instantly, grasping her hand before she can stray too far. “I don’t want you to leave.” His eyes are glassy and his face is flushed and she can tell he can use the company right now just as much as she can.

She bites her lip and looks away, but can’t stop herself from giving in. “Okay, for a little while.” She whispers, letting him drag her back in. She sits on the bed and then they end up lying down, his body curled behind hers, his hands resting dangerously close to her stomach. She cries again and he holds her, like he loves her, like everything really might be okay. But she knows that this, going through this together, might just be the thing that breaks them apart irreparably. The light won’t just go out, it will shatter and cease to ever shine again. 

It’s early, but she still falls asleep. She’s exhausted from holding everything in and finally sharing the burden grants her the relief she needs. And okay maybe it’s because he’s here, holding her, making her feel safe even when she isn’t.

Likewise, he’s content to stay wrapped around her for as long as he can. Her warm body pressed to his own seems to be the only thing keeping him together right now.

How could he let this happen? They’d been so careful every time they’d been together, well except for the first time when they’d been so lustful for each other in his shower. That was when things had progressed faster than they’d meant for them to. Sure, he’d fantasized about having sex with Betty, but he’d never expected it to play out the way it did the first time. 

What was that, seven weeks ago now, give or take? He shifts onto his back, relieved when Betty turns with him settling herself against his chest, still lost to sleep. Grabbing his phone with the hand not wrapped around her waist, he tries to take the approach she probably has of researching exactly what’s going on. He types ‘7 weeks pregnant’ into Google and starts a deep dive. 

An hour and change goes by easily before she wakes up, her stomach growling unpleasantly. Nausea is creeping up on her again and she’s starting to learn that ‘morning sickness’ is a very deceptive nickname for this unfortunate side effect of pregnancy. “Do you have any crackers or maybe some water?” She asks, shifting to sit up.

He looks up from his phone, where he’d been intensely reading, and nods. Setting it down on the bed and hopping up, he replies “Be right back,” before closing the door behind him.

She knows it’s nosy and invasive, but those are two of her known traits at this point, so she picks up his phone to see what he’d been reading so intently. The screen is still lit up and unlocked, thankfully, she can see the text of the blog post he’d been reading before scampering off to the kitchen for her.

‘ **_Supporting Your Partner Through Early Pregnancy_ ** ’ she reads at the top. That subheading alone makes her drop the phone back down where he’d left it. Her body feels hot and uncomfortable, exactly like when she’s about to launch into a full blown panic attack. 

Just when she feels like she may lose it, he re-enters the room, arms overflowing. “Okay I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I brought graham crackers, Ritz crackers, and Saltines.” He lets the boxes fall from where they’ve been tucked between his elbows. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want ice or not so I brought one glass with,” He brandishes the one in his left hand, “and one without.” He offers the other to her too.

She takes the one with ice and smiles at the sweetness, even though ultimately it just makes her feel more sad. She blinks back a few more tears. “What’s wrong?” He asks quickly, sitting down next to her after setting the other glass on the nightstand.

“You’re just being so good to me, that’s all.” She shakes her head and surges forward to hug him. “I guess it’s the hormones or whatever.” She excuses, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before leaning back and taking a long sip of water. She grabs the Ritz and nibbles at a couple, trying to keep both the nausea and her emotions at bay. 

He studies her with regard, not sure what to say in response that won’t upset her. So he doesn’t say anything, he just lays down next to her again, sneaking a cracker or two for himself while his hand rests familiarly on her thigh. “Betty,” He speaks finally, after several long moments of relatively comfortable silence. “You know I love you, right?” He asks, his voice slightly hoarse.

She takes a sharp breath in and forces out a smile. She knows he loves her, it’s the fact that he isn’t  _ in love _ with her that’s the real problem though. “Of course. I love you, too.” She sighs, tilting her body towards his and resting on her side. “That isn’t enough to make this all work though.” She remarks sadly, her hand brushing briefly over her lower belly, which is slightly more bloated than usual, before she pulls it away, as if zapped by static electricity. 

“Maybe it could be?” He says, hopefully, resting his hand on her hip. “Maybe we could try it?” He suggests apprehensively, like he’s testing the waters.

“It’s not,” She doubles down, her voice firm and confident like the great liar she is. “And we shouldn’t try anything. Not anymore.” She gives him a pointed look and then adds, “This time, I’m really going to go.” She forces herself to get moving, sitting up and placing her feet on the ground before she can reconsider again.

“I still don’t want you to leave.” He reiterates, standing up with her. “Betty,” He sighs, as if remiss to confess the next part. “I need you here.”

“Well, maybe I need to be alone.” She argues back unconvincingly. 

“I think alone is the worst place for you to be right now.” He narrows his eyes at her. “It’s just going to hurt worse if you try and face this by yourself, please. Just stay with me.”

She frowns, there’s no use arguing when he’s so obviously right, but it’s so much more complicated than that for her right now. “I don’t know what to do, Arch.” She confesses suddenly, shrugging her shoulders somberly. “Somehow, being here with you hurts just as much as being alone.” She blinks back tears, feeling raw. 

“Betts,” Her admittance breaks his heart more than a little. “Please don’t say that. I don’t want to hurt you.  _ Please _ ,” He reaches for her tentatively, “Tell me what I can do to fix this and I’ll do it. I just want to help you.” His eyes are welling with tears and the desperate look he gives her makes her want to crawl away and hide.

“There’s nothing you can do!” She responds, becoming incensed. “Nothing can fix this, Arch. Nothing can fix  _ us _ .” Her last exasperated confession comes out. 

“That’s not true, we can always fix us!” He replies desperately, grabbing her and pulling her against him as if holding her tightly might get her to believe him; might make that true “I’d do anything for you Betty, anything you need.

She doesn’t want to need him like this. But her body melds into his and she wraps her arms around his broad shoulders familiarly, inhaling deeply and snuggling into his embrace. She can feel the literal warmth and figurative love radiating off of him where he’s wrapped around her. She gives into the euphoria of his offering of sanctuary for a moment before remembering she doesn’t deserve it. Then, an almost grim look passes through her eyes. “You could,” She stops, knowing this is the last thing she should be suggesting. “You could make me forget.” She whispers into his ear, hot breath tickling his earlobe. “You’re good at making me feel nothing but you.”

He hesitates, “You’re not in a great place right now. We shouldn’t.” He shakes his head as he pulls back to look at her, but he does move his hand to cup her face lovingly. “The other day, you said this isn’t what you wanted. I have to assume that you were thinking more clearly then and respect that you wanted to be done with us, for good.”

“I haven’t been in a good place this whole time,” She admits, shrugging like that’s a nonfactor in the grand scheme. “Why does that matter now?” She actually smiles, though it’s misplaced. “I’ve been broken this whole time Archie and no amount of tools you might have are going to be able to put me back together again, especially not now.” She sighs, resignedly. “You said you’d do anything I want to help me; to fix this.” She swallows hard. “So, fuck me,” She suggests, almost like it’s a challenge. “Clearly that wasn’t a problem for you before, or we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“Betts,” Her name comes out with a heavy sigh. “It’s not a good id-” But her mouth presses against his before he can finish his sentence and despite his better judgement, he kisses her back. 

When he kisses her, she doesn’t feel the  _ nothing _ that she wants. She feels  _ everything _ that he’s feeling and it’s overwhelming. He’s kissing her now with a longing she hasn’t felt before, like he’s sure if he kisses her slow enough and passionately enough, all her pain might transfer to him instead. He’s kissing her like he needs her, like he loves her. Like maybe this situation they’ve found themselves in isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened to them. 

It’s the final thought that does her in and she breaks the kiss, sliding her hands out from where they’ve slipped up into the back of his shirt, hands roaming greedily over his muscular back. “You’re right, this is a bad idea.” She sighs, backing away from him again. But then, like a magnet, she finds herself stepping back towards him, unable to keep herself from being pulled in by his force. “Don’t kiss me like that again,” She pleads weakly. “Just kiss me like you always do.”

“That  _ is _ how I always kiss you,” He murmurs, his forehead resting against hers. He kisses her again, even though he thinks he probably shouldn’t. He’s just as addicted as she is; the habit is hard to break. Especially when he has no desire to kick this habit.

“No it’s not,” She argues, sighing as his hands come to her back, pulling her in again. She can’t even begin to pretend that she’s not completely consumed at the way he can so uncannily make her feel like she’s safe with him, always. “I want to forget it all, Archie. Not feel all of this,” She sighs vaguely, pressing her lips to his neck. “I think I’m in too deep now to be able forget with you anymore.” She’s upset with herself, for letting it get this far. “Look, you’re right, we weren’t supposed to do that anymore. We’re friends, nothing more. This  _ issue _ we’re dealing with doesn’t change that. I’ll see you at school, okay?” She can’t help but to kiss him once more in spite of what she’s just said, letting her own longing come through only finitely before pulling away. It’s the last kiss they deserve, she thinks; but she’s still not prepared for it to be the last time she feels his lips on hers like that. It has to be though; it’s what’s for the best, especially where he’s concerned. 

She barely sleeps and she can’t help but notice his light on too, most of the night. She thinks about texting him and she knows he’d be there in a second, but she shouldn’t. So, she doesn’t. Archie is hurting too and she isn’t the comfort he needs, not really. It’s better they quit each other, cold turkey.

She doesn’t think they can come back from this. After her appointment tomorrow, everything will really be real. Not that it isn’t already, but there’s something about going to a doctor and getting an official test and confirmation that gives it more finality. 

It’s what’s going to come next that will really destroy her, she thinks. It will implode them too, because no matter what promises he makes her, he’ll never look at her the same way after this. How can he? She’ll never look at herself the same way either.

When she wakes up early the next morning, it’s to throw up. Morning sickness is really hitting her ferociously right now and she thinks maybe it’s her body’s way of punishing her for what she’s about to put it through. She grips the porcelain bowl hard as she empties the contents of her stomach and then rises to brush her teeth, a habit she’s grown all too accustomed to over the last few days.

She’s able to put herself on autopilot throughout the school day, it’s easy enough to get herself to “perform” when she has an “audience” of students and colleagues to keep up the act for. She even manages to laugh and smile with Kevin at lunch. But when Mrs. Bell comes in and heats up a tuna melt in the teacher’s lounge, she actually has to run out of there, gagging her way to the bathroom.

Archie, who’d been nondescriptly watching her from his post next to the vending machine across the room, is waiting for her outside of the bathroom door. It startles her to hear his voice, because she’s not expecting to see him there. “You okay?” He asks, clearly worried about her.

“Well thanks to my newly inherited sense of supersonic smell, I almost lost it over a sandwich, so I’ve been better.” She reminds herself she needs to pack some gum with her from now on and covers her mouth so he can’t smell her rancid breathe.

“Well I got you these,” He hands her a grocery bag, “There were lots of things on the list I was looking at about the best things for your nausea and I wasn’t sure what might work so I just kind of,” He shrugs, “...got it all?”

She can feel by the weight of the bag that he’s not lying. She tucks her hand under the bottom for support and peers inside. She sees a bottle of ginger ale, a bag of mints, several packs of gum, a box of sour candies, some crackers, a bag of pretzels, and a box of tea bags labeled ginger tea. There’s some other stuff, she can’t quite see either. He wasn’t exaggerating, this bag contains every nausea cure known to man, she’s pretty sure. 

Her eyes well with tears as the gesture, “Arch,” She sighs, biting her lip. “You didn’t have to do this.” She slides the bag onto her arm and leans forward, hugging him gently. “Thank you, I mean. That was really so thoughtful of you.” She whispers softly. “I’ll see you later,” she adds before turning and heading down the hall towards the reprieve of her own classroom again.

He’s waiting for her after school, by his car. He doesn’t see her right away, so she takes a second to observe him as he stands there, posted up against the side. He looks stressed, his forehead creased with worry, probably for her, she realizes. She sighs, vowing to get herself together, as she walks up. “Hey,” She musters lamely, only managing to offer him a small smile, but at least it’s a genuine one. “Thanks again for the snacks, they really helped.” She opens the passenger door and gets in as he does the same on the other side. “And thanks for coming with me to this.”

“Of course, thanks for letting me.” He nods, as though it’s nothing. She can practically see his heart racing through his shirt though. 

“I’ll text you the address of the clinic,” She says, trying to remain as neutral as possible, for her sake more than his. She pulls out the phone and copy/pastes it for him. “It should take us about 35 minutes, give or take.” Then she sort of angles her body towards the window and adds, “Would it be alright if we just listen to music and not talk?”

He nods at her again, “Whatever you want,” then turns up the radio, plugging the address she’s sent him into his maps app before peeling out of the parking lot. They don’t talk, but she does reach for his hand and brings it over to her lap. She intertwines her fingers with his and rests them on her knee as she looks out the window, seemingly focusing on a faraway point. She’s trying not to cry, he thinks; it’s taking everything in her power not to completely fall apart. He wishes he could take this pain away from her, feel it all himself instead. They haven’t even started the hardest part, not really. He wonders if he’ll be strong for her like he wants to be. Right now, he doesn’t feel strong. Right now, he feels weak and useless. Right now, he feels like he’s ruined her life. Like he’s ruined  _ them _ . Dwelling on those thoughts threaten to cause his undoing so he shoves down his feelings in favor of focusing on hers instead.

They arrive with about ten minutes to spare and she finally looks at him with watery eyes and a reddened nose, “I don’t think I’m ready to go in there yet.” She whispers, sullenly.

A few tears betray her, slipping down her cheeks and he leans closer, using his free thumb to wipe them away. “We can just sit here a minute,” he promises, leaning his forehead against hers. “It’s okay to be sad or scared, Betts. It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts, we can-”

“No,” She swallows, pulling out of his comforting touch and blinking her eyes wildly to rid them of tears before balling her hands into fists and rubbing her eyes furiously. “I’m fine, let’s go.” She swallows and opens the door before she loses her nerve, sliding her purse over her shoulder and getting out of the car.

He offers her his hand again and she takes it without hesitation, gripping it as though he’s her only tether to reality. Archie handles everything, from getting her checked in to guiding her to a seat in the waiting room. He even starts filling in the paperwork to the best of his ability; asking her the questions he doesn’t know the answers to. His handwriting isn’t as neat as hers, but it’ll do.

He holds her hand the whole way through, something she’s equally grateful for. By the time the nurse is calling them back, she’s so filled with fear and dread that she can barely even rise from the chair. She grips its arms hard, like staying in this chair can somehow keep this all from being true. Archie helps her, of course, tugging at her hand and pulling her against his side as they follow the nurse down the hall. 

She takes Betty’s height and weight, and does a couple blood draws before they’re on the move again. The chestnut-haired woman brings them into an exam room. It’s decorated with pictures of flowers and adorable babies, female anatomy posters and figures peppered in as well. It’s meant to be happy, of course, but it makes Betty feel awful and Archie wraps his arms around her shoulders, kissing her forehead gently. As soon as the nurse leaves them alone, she cries, her face against his chest, tears dampening his t-shirt. She wonders how she even has any left to cry at this point.

She manages to get herself together before the doctor comes in and she’s even able to answer some of her questions about medical history and the physical symptoms she’s been experiencing thus far. It’s when Dr. Ryker asks the next question that she’s really thrown off guard. “I’m going to need to give you a pelvic exam, you’ll have to undress from the waist down and put on this hospital gown. Do you want your husband to leave the room?”

“Oh, we’re not.” She shakes her head, there’s no point in clarifying their relationship status right now, it’s irrelevant. “It’s fine, he can stay.” She bites her lip, her knuckles white as she grips his hand harder. The exam is uncomfortable and she can feel tears spring in her eyes again, this time from discomfort rather than mental anguish at least.

“Sorry, about that, I know that part isn't great.” The doctor acknowledges, patting her knee. “Well all of your levels are looking good for the most part, you’re gonna want to keep that iron intake up though. It’s looking like you’re a couple days shy of eight weeks. We can do an ultrasound next and check things out? Your baby is only about the size of a kidney bean, but we should still be able to get some exciting shots. This is your first child, right?” She glances over the chart, as if checking for that fact.

“Oh, uhm, yes.” Betty pauses, biting the inside of her cheek. “But I’m not sure we need the uh,” She casts a helpless look at Archie.

“Oh, we’ve already taken so much of your time. We can just get one at our next appointment,” He suggests, thinking on his feet. Betty casts him a look of appreciation.

Dr. Ryker smiles at them both. “It’s no trouble at all! Look, I know this can be an overwhelming time.” Her gaze shifts pointedly to Betty, “It’s all a lot to take in, especially if this happened unexpectedly. But you two are a gorgeous couple, I can tell your partner adores you; let yourself be happy. It’s okay.” She smiles at Betty reassuringly again. “I’ll give you two a moment, while I go get the ultrasound technician, okay? This is the fun part!” She’s out the door before either of them can respond, much less protest. 

Betty reaches for him, to which he responds by pulling her in for a tight hug. “I’m not sure I can handle it.” She confesses, burying her face into his neck.

“I was reading,” He begins, and Betty’s mouth gapes at his opening statement, “Some women think it gives you closure, others choose not to have one because it’s too hard. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with, I’ll go out in the hall and tell them we don’t want one, if that’s what you want.”

She stares at him for a second. It’s easy to see what he’d do if it were up to only him. “No, I,” She pauses, “I think maybe we’d regret it if we didn’t,” She cocks her head slightly, “What do you think?”

“Yeah, no, that sounds good.” He nods, trying his best to remain neutral instead of joyful. “And if it gets to be too much, just look at me instead, okay?”

She smiles weakly and nods, turning to face him. Her hands move to cup his face, bringing his lips down to meet hers. She kisses him slowly and purposefully. It’s selfish, almost, the way she savors his lips. She pulls away all at once, as if coming back to reality. “Sorry, I’m not sure what came over me.” She blushes and pushes her hair behind her ear, leaning back against the exam table again. She has really got to stop doing that.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” He can’t help but say, his hand sliding back down her arm to tuck into hers again. “Betty, whatever happens I want you to know that I-” The door opening cuts him off before he can finish. 

A tall, lanky woman in scrubs walks in pushing the equipment cart in front of her. “Hello! I’m Abigail, I’ll be your sonographer today. Give me a second to get everything ready and we’ll get started. Mind putting your feet back in those stirrups?”

Betty nods and slides her feet back up into the cold metal holsters, smoothing the sheet around her hips that the other woman spreads over her lap. It’s cold and a little more than unpleasant when she inserts the probe and Betty has her eyes squeezed shut. She thinks it’s more because she’s afraid to confront what’s about to show up on the monitor then because she’s uncomfortable though. “Okay let’s see,” the sonographer begins, “Just gotta find the right angle and then,” She grins at Archie, “Time for magic!”

Archie smiles back at Abigail and then leans in towards Betty, kissing her temple. “You alright?” He asks, taking stock of the fact she hasn’t opened her eyes yet.

“Mhmm,” Betty mutters, squeezing his hand tighter. “You look for both of us, I can’t do it.” She whispers, her voice catching in her throat.

Archie’s lip quivers a little but he gives a curt nod, even though she can’t see and then articulates his response, “Of course,” with a false confidence he’s mustered without knowing how. 

Suddenly, the grainy image on the screen becomes more clear. Abigail lets out a satisfied sound, like she’s finally found what she was looking for. “Alright, here we go! That little spot, right here,” She uses a red pointer on the screen to circle the area she’s describing, “Is your baby.”

Betty finally opens her eyes, feeling Archie’s hand squeeze hers more tightly this time. She doesn’t look at the monitor, but instead at his face. The silent tears that drip down his cheeks are enough to break her instantly. She starts crying as soon as she registers the sight. “Arch,” she swallows hard. 

He looks away from the entrancing screen before him and down at her “I think maybe you should look,” He whispers, his voice just as watery as his eyes, as he drags her hand up towards his lips, kissing the back of it gently. 

Her heart’s racing but she turns her head towards the screen anyway. She blinks a couple times and takes in the sight, which isn’t much if she’s being honest. The screen is blurry and it’s mostly splotches and specks that together don’t look like much of anything. But, Abigail brings out the red dot again and once she outlines the small, globular shape of white on the screen Betty feels overwhelmed, she bites her lip as she tears flow freely and she turns her head back to look at Archie again. 

He’s engrossed by the sight in front of him still, but his hands are rubbing hers tenderly. He finally looks away and at her face again and she can’t help but notice that he’s smiling; really smiling. A genuine, meaningfully happy grin is spread across his lips and he tries his best to stifle it when he sees she’s not experiencing the same type of all-consuming feeling that he is. The one overtaking her is much darker than that of the absolute joy he’s got coursing through him.

He doesn’t have to think of something to say, because Abigail pipes in again. “I’m just going to take a few measurements, figure out a more accurate due date and then we can print up some of the good ones I got for you.” She doesn’t seem to notice Betty’s reaction, or maybe it’s not as abnormal as she thinks it is to be this upset and despondent during these things. The idea makes her feel better, so she runs with it.

In no time, they’re heading out to his car, both stricken into silence. She’s clutching the yellow-orange envelope Abigail handed her with the ultrasound photos and other paperwork in one hand and holding his hand for dear life in the other. 

He helps her sit down and even clicks in her seatbelt for her, kissing her forehead before getting into the driver’s seat. He turns on the music and slides his hand onto her thigh again, rubbing gently. “You okay?” He asks, once they’re a few stoplights away from the clinic.

She’s looking out the window, but she answers, kind of. “I’m glad you were with me,” is her only reply.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He swallows hard and squeezes her leg. “I’m going to be here for everything you need Betty, no matter what.”

“I know Arch,” She replies weakly, placing her hand on his and grasping his fingers tightly. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

They drive on in silence and it’s when they’re sitting at a red light, not too far outside of Riverdale, when he can’t stop the next stream of consciousness from taking over his brain. That’s what makes it slip out of his mouth and into reality. “We could be a family Betty. You, me,  _ our baby _ .” He articulates the last words with complete reverence. 

His phrasing alone is enough to break her. “Don’t call it that.”

He’s desperate as he continues, “I could get another job, you can move in with me, I’ll take care of you. Of both of you.” The promises he makes are earnest, she can tell he believes what he’s saying and she knows that he thinks it can be true. But she knows better than to let herself fall for it.

Tears stream down her face again and she squeezes his hand. “I wish it were that easy.” She whispers, shaking her head. “But I already made up my mind and this appointment didn’t change that, Arch. I’m sorry if I gave you some sort of false hope that this might go another way.”

“But it’s me and you Betts,” He places his hand on her belly lovingly, “It’s not like we’re teenagers anymore and this isn’t just some meaningless one night stand. This can work. We can-”

“We can’t!” She argues back emphatically, shoving his hand away as she cuts him off.

He’s persistent though. “I’m in love with you.” He lets the words sink in for a second before adding, “You’re carrying my child! That means something. It’s like fate or destiny, I don’t know-- I just know that this all  _ means _ something Betts. But after looking at that monitor, after seeing  _ our baby _ I just; something changed. I feel like this is happening for a reason.”

“You are not in love with me Archie. You’re experiencing some sort of insanely euphoric reaction to the ultrasound or something, it’ll wear off.” She promises, then hoping that’ll be the end of his revelation she notes, “The light’s green.” After everything he’s just confessed, it’s all she can do not to give in to this fantasy he’s painting a picture of for her.

“That’s not true, Betty. I’m fucking _in_ _love_ with you.” He reiterates, confident in his convictions. “That’s why I ended things with Veronica! I ended it with her before you even told me about our baby.”

“Stop calling it that!” She warns again, on the brink of falling apart, her eyes glossy. The light switches to yellow and she knows she’ll be trapped in this conversation longer as it turns red.

“I ended things with her because I want to be with you. Only you. Because I love you, Betty. I know the timing is crazy but we’ve never been great with timing, so in a way, doesn’t this kind of make sense? We always push each other away to spare the other, but maybe this baby is supposed to bring us together.”

“Please, just stop.” She says all at once. “The light’s green,  _ again _ ” she adds, her voice cracking. Much to her dismay, he just keeps staring at her intently as both of their hearts pound wildly, and the car doesn’t move. “Just drive, Archie.” She begs, unable to look at him anymore, she tears her gaze away and throws it back out the window. 

“Betty, please. Just-”

“No!” Her voice booms over his. She has to look at him for this next part, because she wants it to hurt and sting and push him away. “I don’t love you back! I don’t want to be with you! I don’t want us to play house! I don’t even want us to be friends! This isn’t fate or destiny; this is a product of our irresponsibility and your apparent inability to pull out!” Her heart feels like it could explode from her ribs at any moment it’s beating too rapidly, the tears streaming wildly as well. “I don’t want to even be in this fucking car anymore!” She screams and with that, she actually throws the door open and gets out, even though they’re on some back road and she has no idea where they actually are right now.

Obviously, he pulls over. He can’t decide if getting out and going after her will make things worse, but he isn’t sure there’s any other option. He can’t let her walk the next eight miles home and he can’t let her out of his sight. He does give her a minute, lets her huff and puff for a bit before he easily runs to catch up to where she’s made progress to.

“Look, I’m sorry. That was a lot and I probably should not have dumped it all on you after such an emotional experience. That wasn’t fair of me and I’m sorry, but Betty I meant everything I-”

“Just take me home.” She demands coldly, ignoring him and walking back towards the car. She gets in the back seat, for good measure, so he can’t touch her. She also refuses to look at him, let alone speak for the rest of the ride.

As soon as they’ve pulled into his driveway, she gets out of his car and heads to her house, knowing it’s wishful thinking when she hopes he won’t follow her. He does come after her though, but not with any more grand confessions or indecent proposals. “Hey can I have one of those…” He scratches the back of his neck and motions to the envelope in her hand with the other.

“You can have them all. They mean nothing to me.” She shrugs, shoving it into his chest like she doesn’t care at all before turning to walk away again. “I want to lay down and be alone.” She turns over her shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Betty, you always say that and then you never actually do.” He says after her sadly. His tone reminds her again, that he’s going through this too; not just her.

“I mean it this time,” She swears, hoping he can believe that. “And I’m sorry about freaking out on you earlier, I was out of line and I didn’t even mean most of it.”

“Right, it’s okay. I know you’re going through a lot.” He looks down at his feet, obviously on the brink of being consumed by emotion himself. “Well if you need me, just text me and I’ll head right over. Or if there’s something you need, I can get it and I can-”

“Arch,” She whispers his name and shakes her head. “I already know, okay? I,” She swallows the sob that threatens to burst out. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

It doesn’t feel better to be alone, but she knows she needs it anyway. If he were here, he’d be doing everything to convince her they should keep the baby, even if he wasn’t trying to. She leans against her headboard, her knees drawn to her chest, and her chin resting on them as she tries to sort through her feelings and decisions. Hours pass as she sits in contemplation over everything that’s about to change her life magnanimously. She flip flops on her decision multiple times, unsure of what she really wants and what she really can do. 

She can’t help but let her mind drift to Archie’s earlier musings about them being a family and figuring this all out together. She tries to shove that fantasy away, because she knows that’s all it really is. Archie doesn’t want to be with her, he feels like he should want to. He’s a man of honor and because she’s carrying his child, he has some misplaced sense of obligation to her. Well, soon enough, that’ll be over and so will his fleeting and ever-changing feelings for her. Hopefully this time, for good; for both of their sakes.

She books the termination appointment for that Friday and unfeelingly texts him the details. She thinks that might help make him want to avoid her and it technically counts as talking to him later, like she said she would. 

This time, he’s the one who doesn’t respond.

She doesn’t sleep at all that night, just stays up thinking, crying, and picking up her phone to reach out to him, but ultimately deciding against it. Archie deserves more than a half-assed apology over the phone or through a text. Tomorrow, she’ll give it to him; like he actually deserves.

She plans on apologizing to him first thing that morning at school. In fact, she picks up a coffee the way he likes at Pop to bring him as a peace offering. She said some shitty things she didn’t actually mean and Archie, though he has his flaws, has been nothing but loving and supportive of her throughout all of this. She owes him more than a coffee and an apology, she knows that, but she has to start somewhere. She’ll never forget the look on his face as she screamed all those terrible things she didn’t even mean at him. She has to fix this.

However, when she approaches his office and sees Veronica perched on his desk with crossed legs and a pencil skirt while he smiles back at her, Betty decides he’s doing just fine without an apology. She throws the coffee in the trash and decides to avoid him instead of following through with her original plan.

The day drags on slowly, seeming to take forever for the dismissal bell to ring. She can’t get out of there soon enough when it finally does, though. She thinks she might hear him call her name as she walks out the front doors, but she doesn’t stop to check. She has to get out of there.

She drafts her resignation letter as soon as she gets home, but doesn’t send it to Weatherby. She’s already decided that she wants to leave as soon as possible, but until things are figured out with Polly, she knows she can’t really go. She wishes she could though. She wishes she could be far away from here. Most of all, she wishes she’d never come back to Riverdale at all.

Finally, with the exhaustion catching up to her, she manages to cry herself to sleep. She finds no rest or reprieve in it though. The nightmare that plagues her isn’t about the TBK, not tonight. The vivid dream world she’s lured towards now is set in a time nearly a decade ago now. Archie, laying in that coffin, fear written into his teenaged, dirt-smudged face. But he’s not the only one. She flashes to the present and now, Polly’s next to him, in her own coffin. Betty buries them both. But then, a third smaller coffin appears and she manages to force herself awake before she has to see what might happen next.

She doesn’t even realize she’s picked up her phone to text him, until she’s already hitting send. 

She’s asked to come over and even though it’s almost midnight by now, his response is immediate. 

**Yes, always** .

She’s not sure she should be going over there, but she does. He’s waiting for her at the door and he opens it before she even has a chance to bend over to obtain the spare key. He doesn’t greet her with words and there’s no smile on his face, but he wraps his arms around her, engulfing her completely. “Come inside,” He whispers softly, dark circles under his eyes.

They only just make it up stairs and into his room before he’s wrapping himself around her again and this time, he’s crying. She hates it, that he feels this way because of her. ”Oh Arch, I’m sorry. For everything.” Her hand slips up the back of his neck and into his hair easily. She holds him while he cries and she’s able to stay surprisingly strong. Her other hand comes to trail up and down his back tenderly until his shoulders stop shaking. 

He draws back and sits down with her on his bed. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I thought I’d gotten myself to a pretty good place with all this. I guess seeing you just made it all rise to the surface again.” He confesses, clearly embarrassed that he’s broken down like that in front of her. All at once, he seems to remember that she’s the one who asked to come over. “You okay? I probably should've started there.”

“Yes, I’m okay. I just needed to talk.” Anxiously, she brings her fingers up to play absently with her hair. “You didn’t tell V, right? About what’s going on?”

His eyes widen. “Of course not, why would you even ask that?”

“I saw you two in your office this morning and I,” She shrugs. “I got scared.”

“She dropped off some buttons for the players to wear on spirit day next week. That’s all we talked about.” He shifts uncomfortably. “And since I know you’re wondering but won’t ask, no, we didn’t fuck. I am capable of speaking to her without jumping her bones.” He clenches his jaw and shakes his head, ashamed of himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He gives her an apologetic look, but she can tell he’s just as emotionally spent as she is right now. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” He asks weakly, like he can’t tolerate being in her presence much longer.

She considers for a second, pretending that was all she’d come over here for. Her heart beat starts to quicken as she brings her eyes up to meet his. She just needs to come out with it, that’s the easiest way. Rip off the bandaid all at once. “I don’t think I can go through with it,” She offers her own confession quietly.

At first she’s not sure she’s said it loud enough to be audible, but he finally turns and looks at her, carefully; like he’s studying her. “What do you mean?” He asks, his own voice soft, yet hoarse.

“The baby,” She pauses. “ _ Our _ baby,” She corrects, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I,” She takes a deep breath and reaches for both of his hands, sliding hers into them. “I know it’s crazy but what if we,” She bites her lip and her eyes drift up to his. “Do you really think it could work, if we,” She pauses and swallows hard. “Arch did you mean what you said earlier, like  _ really _ mean it? Because if you’re just saying those things out of obligation or some sense of honor, it’s not going to work.”

His heart races with each phrase that leaves her lips and he finds himself nodding, pulling her against him, pupils dilated with adrenaline. “Every word,” He swears, his hand cupping her cheeks. “I’ll do anything it takes. Whatever you need.” Then he pauses and looks in her eyes carefully. “I’m all in, Betty. On us, on this baby, on being a family.” 

She surges forward and kisses him deeply, cupping his face. “Me too,” She avows, her hand resting on his chest. “Make love to me,” She whispers the request, breathless against his temple.

This time, she lets herself feel everything she’s tried to shut out before. All the passion, the raw connection, the love; she lets them consume her completely. But more than that, she lets him feel all of that from her; finally. She’d restrained herself every other time they’ve been together, tried to keep what she felt separate from their physical connection. 

She’s louder than she should be, especially considering the room they’re in shares a wall with the one Jughead is currently sleeping in. But, she can’t help it. “Too much,” She moans into his shoulder, biting there as a means of stifling the sound. “Too  _ good,” _ comes another breathless remark, falling from her lips without the effort of thought.

“No such thing,” He disagrees with a smirk, sending her over the edge again.

They make love for over an hour, but this time their prolonged ardency isn’t rooted in avoidance of nightmares or escapism. This time, she absolutely and completely cannot get enough of him; or him of her. 

“We have work in like three hours,” She mumbles, hiking her leg higher over his hip as he hovers over her, still driving her crazy. 

“So does that mean,” His head dips, his tongue coming out to lick the curve of her breast sensually slow. “...you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no,” She gasps, her back arching, sending their connection even deeper. “Don’t ever stop.” She manages to get out, before she’s silenced by a hungry kiss.

It takes another half an hour before their insatiable need for each other has been quelled, yet still not quenched. “Good thing it’s not possible to get someone more pregnant,” She giggles, kissing him lightly before grabbing his shirt from the floor and tugging it on before settling back against the pillows. “Seemed like that’s what you were trying to accomplish.” She smirks, pulling him against her body.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He smirks, kissing her collarbone. “You didn’t seem to be complaining. Though I’m pretty sure our private relationship is now known by everyone not only in this house but on this street.” 

“Shut up, I wasn’t that loud. I tried to be quiet!” She slips her hand in his hair. “That’s just as much your fault as mine, if not more, for the record.”

“It’s okay, I’ll buy them donuts or something as a way of saying, sorry for my girlfriend’s late night vocal showcase.” He winks at her.

Her smile spreads. “Girlfriend?” She asks, almost shyly. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that.”

“Sounds right to me,” He grins, “ _ babe _ .” He adds, for good measure, leaning up to kiss her.

They get a couple good hours sleep before being rudely awoken by his alarm clock, set for his early morning run. He shuts it off in favor of sleeping in, but Betty starts to get up. “I need clothes for work, and make up, and to not look like this,” She sighs, using her hand to indicate her appearance as she sets to work searching the floor for her pajama pants. 

“Maybe you should keep some of your stuff here now, so you don’t have to sneak out and get ready for work.” He suggests, trying to keep his tone light and not too serious.

“Great idea,  _ babe. _ ” She smirks, leaning over to kiss him but then, pulling back abruptly. “Fuck, shouldn’t have bent over.” She brings her hand to her mouth and, knowing she’s got no chance of making it to the bathroom, throws up in the trash can next to his desk.

He kneels next to her, rubbing her back gently. “Oh hey that reminds me,” He stands up and grabs a small plastic bag from his desk, dipping his hand in and producing a toothbrush. “I got you this when I went on my nausea snack shopping spree. Thought it might be good for you to keep one here.” He tries not to think about the fact that up until a few hours ago, he didn’t think she’d ever have a chance to use it.

“Arch,” Her eyes well up, she hates how emotional she’s been lately. She’s crying over a fucking toothbrush. “I’d kiss you, but I just threw up!” She laughs gently and squeezes his hand. “Thank you,” She adds, heading to the bathroom.

When she returns, she gives him the kiss she’d wanted to before. “Hey, we can’t tell anyone.” She says, sitting down. “I mean, about the baby. Not yet. Until I’m 12 weeks there are a lot of things that can go wrong. We need to prepare ourselves for that, just in case.” She gives him a meaningful look. “And hey we can also take it slow on telling people we’re together. If something happens with the baby and-”

“That doesn't change us, Betty.” He promises, leaning over to kiss her. “I said I was all in and I meant it.”

She smiles happily, undeniably. “Okay,” She draws her bottom lip in thoughtfully. “But we can still keep it between us, maybe out of respect to Veronica?” She adds, a hint of nervousness in her tone. She knows he’ll want to keep a promise like that, she’s just not sure that he actually can.

“Betty, I’m pretty sure Jug heard at least some of what was happening, don’t you think he’s going to realize,” He trails of implicitly. 

“No,” She shakes her head. “He never made me sound like that.” She shrugs and smiles, it’s not a slight against him really. She was a teenager back then and now; she’s a woman. “Unless he brings it up, don’t say anything!” She leans in and kisses him again. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

He gives her a look of trepidation but smiles nonetheless. “Yeah, sounds good, beautiful.”

This time ‘talk to you soon’ actually means soon. Because about five minutes after she leaves, his cell phone rings and her picture flashes onto the screen. “Miss me already?” He asks, in lieu of a hello.

“I decided there’s one person we can tell.” He can hear her smile through the phone. “Can you be ready in like,” She tries to calculate how fast she can realistically get dressed and made up. “Twenty min-what the fuck.” She interrupts herself as she looks in the mirror. Her lower stomach, which was slightly bloated yesterday, appears to have a more obvious bulge now, especially compared to her normal figure.

“What’s wrong? He asks quickly and she can see movement in her peripheral vision and when she turns her head, she can see he’s standing in his window looking over at her with concern.

She walks towards her own window and instead of a vocal response she sets her phone on the ledge, unlatches it to push it up. Then, she turns to the side, pulling up her shirt. Grabbing her phone again she asks, “Can you see this?”

It’s small but mighty, her little bump. He smiles over at her immediately. “You’re fucking adorable, Betts.”

“Adorable?” She sighs, melting a little. “No, not adorable.” She shakes her head, “Arch, I’m trying to keep this a secret. Listen, just come over when you’re ready. I have to figure out what to wear to make this less obvious. Oh and can you bring those ultrasound photos? I’m literally dying to look at them again.” She hangs up without waiting for a response.

She settles on an oversized sweater and some looser fighting jeans. It’s not necessarily her most attractive outfit of all time, but it’s good enough. Archie’s sitting on her bed waiting when she steps back out of the bathroom, “Okay, sorry, I’m ready, finally.”

“So are we talking to your mom?” He asks, sort of nervous at the idea of that. She senses his uneasiness and smiles.

“What? God no.” She rolls her eyes and laughs gently. “I’m trying to avoid stress, Arch; not maximize it.” She adds with a smirk. “No, this is going to be a nice experience, I think.” She extends her hand to him.

“So, you gonna tell me where and who or is this too fun for you with me not knowing?”

“Too fun,” She nods, smiling again. “Just get in the car. You know you can trust me.”

She doesn’t want to let herself feel too happy about any of this yet, it still feels like she’s waiting on the other foot to drop. But she decides she can give them this moment to enjoy everything, at least for a little while.

She makes him promise to close his eyes as they get closer to their destination, she doesn’t want him to realize it too soon. She parks the car and gets out, opening his side and sliding her hand into his. “Can I seriously still not open them?” He asks with a hint of annoyance. 

“Can you not ruin this for me?” She requests, helping him stand up. She leans forward and kisses him deeply. “For your cooperation, you’ll be rewarded.” She laughs gently against his lips and then closes the passenger door and starts to walk, tugging him with her.

It’s not a far walk and it’s one she hasn’t made in a long time, but it’s still a familiar enough route. She reaches into her purse, pulling the ultrasound photo she brought with them out when they stop in front of their final destination. “Okay, Arch.” She sighs quietly. “You can open them now.” She adds, taking a nervous breath; worried this might be too much.

When he opens his eyes, he recognizes where they are immediately. His eyes instantly rim red as he stares down at his father’s gravestone. “Betts,” He wraps his arms around her shoulders drawing her into his side.

“I think he’d be happy for us,” She whispers, her own voice wavering with emotion. “Maybe a little disappointed, but he’d come around quick.”

“He definitely would.” He sighs, pressing his lips to the side of her head, a few tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Well aren’t you gonna tell him?” She wraps her hands around his bicep and moves so they can kneel together, in front of the headstone. She leans forward, brushing away some dirt that’s blown over the stone. “I got to tell you, so I think it’s your turn. It’s kinda crazy, saying it out loud to someone else.”

It’s not that he feels weird talking to his dad like this, he just doesn’t usually do it with company around. But it’s Betty, so what does he really have to lose? “Dad,” He angles forward, placing his hand on the top of his father’s grave. “Betty and I are having a baby. Surprised? So were we.” He laughs gently and looks at Betty, who moves with the ultrasound photo she’s brought, leaning it up against the headstone. “I know, I know. We didn’t exactly go about it the right way, but, I do love her, Dad. You’ve always known that though.” He turns and kisses Betty softly. “I hope I can be even half the father he was,” He whispers softly, leaning his forehead to hers and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that got a little long! And if that ending fucked you up, it did to me too! Blame Taylor Swifts new albums for all this angsty.
> 
> Okay, I can end it there. But, I think I have some more left, if you're along for the ride. Let me know! Please kudos or review if you feel so inclined!

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's a cliffhanger, whoops. I was thinking this might be a one-shot, but if you'd like to read a part 2, please let me know in the comments!


End file.
